The Price of Silence
by Vickster
Summary: What happens when a drug lord kidnapps Steve to keep him from testifying against him? Will his family and friends find him in time?  STORY COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**The Price of Silence**

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**Part 1**

Steve Sloan looked up at the arrivals board. Flight number six fourteen from Boston was flashing. Now arriving at twelve noon.

Sighing he looked at his watch. _Fifteen minutes to get his luggage, about a five minute walk to the car, another fifteen minutes to get him to the hospital and fifteen minutes to get to court, _he thought. _I can do this._

Making a mental note of the gate number, Steve headed that way. He couldn't understand why the airport was so crowded for a Tuesday. Then he realized that half the people there were hockey players.

_Must be some kind of convention._

His cell phone started ringing. Taking it out of his jacket pocket, Steve flipped it open, bringing it to his ear. "Yes Captain… It's only the fifth time you've called me, that's how I knew it was you… Not yet… Noon… I know… No, I still have plenty of time to get to the courthouse… No, you don't have to send someone down here… Yes, I'll call if the flight is any later than twelve… Okay, Captain, talk with you later."

Putting his cell phone away, Steve wasn't watching where he was walking. Colliding with a little kid holding an ice cream cone, he backed up and saw the chocolate stain on his pants. Smiling at the child, he looked for a sign for a men's room. Finding one, he walked towards it.

Entering the bathroom, Steve walked over to the sink. Grabbing some paper towels and turning on the water, he started to rub the stain away.

_Damn, _he thought. _This is my good suit, now I'm going to have to change._

Paying attention to his pants, Steve didn't notice the two well built large men with hockey bags walk into the bathroom.

_Oh well maybe I can get away with changing the pants._

"Flight number six fourteen from Boston is now arriving at gate A thirteen." The announcement came over the loud speaker.

Steve looked at his watch, it was only eleven thirty-five. Made it in early after all.

Looking at the stain once again, he threw the paper towels in the garbage. Washing his hands, he noticed the two men standing at the urinals, smiling as one of them looked back at him.

Seeing the hockey bags close by, Steve was surprised at their size. "Those a new type of bag?"

The dark haired man walked up to the sink. "Yeah, issued to use this year."

"Looks like you can fit your sticks in there."

"That's the great thing about these bags. You can fit just about anything in there."

"How come you guys are carrying your own bags?" Steve asked.

"When you're on the third line, you carry your own bag," was the answer.

"Ah, I see," Steve said, grabbing another paper towel. "Good luck with your games." Wiping his hands he started walking towards the exit.

The tall blond stepped away from the urinal to block Steve's way.

"Excuse me," Steve said, trying to walk around the guy. The man moved, blocking his way again.

Before Steve could move around him, he was grabbed from behind. He began fighting, but a chloroform soaked rag covered his mouth and nose. Steve held his breath while trying to hit the man that held him from behind. His lungs felt like they were about to explode. Feeling a punch to his stomach, Steve had no choice but to exhale. Once he began breathing, he started inhaling the sweet smell of the chloroform. He went for his gun and his world began to spin as the drug started to take effect. His body fell limply into his attacker's arms. They dragged him over to one of the hockey bags that they'd left on the floor.

"Come on let's hurry this up," the dark haired one said.

The blonde opened up the bag, placing an unconscious Steve carefully inside. He zipped it up and lifted it.

"Jesus Christ, this guy's heavy," he complained.

"Let's go."

Walking out of the bathroom, the two men joined the others heading towards the exit of the airport. Making their way through the crowds, the bag knocked into Mark Sloan.

"Watch it," the blonde said, brushing past Mark.

Mark watched the two walk out of sight. "I hope you lose your game," he muttered under his breath. Looking at his watch, he looked around to see if he could spot Steve in one of the shops. Not seeing his son anywhere, Mark walked up to one of the information desks.

"Can I help you sir?" the young woman behind the desk asked.

"Yes, I was wondering if you can page my son and have him meet me here," Mark requested.

"What's his name?"

"Steve Sloan."

She picked up the phone. "I'll have security page him; we can't page from here."

"Thank you."

Within minutes Mark heard the voice over the loud speaker paging his son to come to the information desk and meet his party. He looked around, trying to see if he could spot Steve walking up to the desk. After checking his watch again, Mark turned to the young lady once more.

"Excuse me, Miss," Mark said.

"Yes sir, what can I do for you now?"

"I was wondering if you could call me a taxi."

"If you go right out those doors," the girl directed by pointing to a set of doors, "you will find the taxis all lined up waiting."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Mark proceeded to the doors he was directed to. He took one last look to see if Steve was around. Not seeing his son, Mark exited the airport.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2:**

Jesse and Amanda stood at the nurse's station, both looking over a chart and talking. Mark entered the busy ER and made his way over to his friends.

"Mark," Amanda said. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah," Jesse said. "I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow."

"I am."

"Then what are you doing here?" Amanda asked.

"I'm looking for my son," Mark replied.

"Steve," Jesse said. "Wasn't he at the airport to pick you up?"

"No," Mark answered. "I ended up taking a taxi here."

Jesse and Amanda just looked at each other.

"Either of you wouldn't happen to know where he might be?" Mark asked.

"Well he told us yesterday that he was due to testify on a case in court today," Amanda answered.

"Ah yes," Mark said. "I forgot the Torres trial was starting this week."

"Maybe that's where he is," Jesse said.

"Probably," Mark replied. "I tried to get him on his cell phone and it went directly to voice mail. Either of you wouldn't happen to be getting off any time soon would you?"

"I just started my shift," Amanda answered.

"I still have another eight hours on mine," Jesse replied. "But if you want I can take my lunch now and take you home."

"No," Mark said. "I don't want you to use your lunch hour for that. I'll just go to my office and see what kind of paper work has piled up since I was gone."

Mark turned to head towards his office when he spotted Steve's partner Cheryl Banks enter the ER.

"Doctor Sloan," she said as she walked up to the group.

"Cheryl, what brings you here?" Mark asked, his stomach started to knot up as he waited for her answer.

"Captain Newman sent me here looking for Steve," she answered. "We got a call from the courthouse and they are ready for his testimony. I already went by the beach house and when I saw no one was home, I came here figuring he got caught up with you after picking you up at the airport."

Mark began to worry. "Cheryl, he never picked me up at the airport."

"He didn't?"

"Maybe someone from the courthouse got a hold of Steve," Amanda began. "And he's there right now."

"Well we did try to reach him on his cell phone with no luck," Cheryl said.

"So maybe he's already there," Jesse stated.

"Yeah maybe, I'm going to head down there and make sure he's there," Cheryl replied. "I'll make sure he gives you a call Doctor Sloan." She turned to walk away.

"Cheryl," Mark called out.

Cheryl turned around to look at him. "Yes, Doctor Sloan."

"Do you mind if I come with you?" he asked.

Cheryl smiled. "Not at all."

"Let us know what happens," Amanda said.

"I will," Mark replied and joined Cheryl.

Amanda and Jesse watched the two walk out of the ER.

"I'm sure everything fine," Jesse said with a wry smile. 

"Yeah, I'm sure your right," Amanda replied.

Inside the courthouse, Assistant District Attorney Sharon Ellison sat at the prosecution's table waiting for the judge to return from his chambers. _Goddamn it, where the hell is he?_

Over at the defense table, defense attorney Michael Goodwin, a middle aged, well dressed man with salt and pepper hair, sat closely to his dark haired client, Rolando Torres.

"So our plan has been initiated?" Torres asked, whispering.

"Got the call at lunch, everything is in place at the house," Goodwin answered.

"Good."

At that moment, the door to the judge's chambers opened and the bailiff came out. "Everyone please rise for the honorable Judge Frank Thompson."

Judge Thompson walked out of his chambers towards his seat behind the bench.

"Ms. Ellison, has your witness arrived?" he asked, sitting down in his seat.

Ellison looked behind her one last time. Taking a deep breath, she then turned back to face the judge. "No, Your Honor."

The crowd began to whisper and stir. Judge Thompson banged his gavel on the block.

"Order in this court! I will have silence in my court room."

"Your Honor," Ellison began. "In light of what has happened and until I'm able to investigate why my witness hasn't shown up today, I respectfully request that the court postpone the rest of this trial until tomorrow."

Jumping up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at Ellison, Goodwin protested. "I object! I move for immediate mistrial. What's to say whether the witness of hers will show up tomorrow or the next day or the next?"

"Your Honor, can we approach the bench?" Ellison asked.

The judge motioned for both attorneys to come forward.

Approaching the bench, Ellison lowered her voice to speak with the judge. "I guarantee that he will show up tomorrow, Your Honor."

Goodwin lowered his voice once he began talking with the judge. "Your Honor, the prosecution guaranteed that the witness would show up today, didn't he? The defense moves again for a mistrial."

Judge Thompson looked at both attorneys.

"Wasn't this witness supposed to be your last one?"

"Yes, Your Honor, he was."

"And you guaranteed him being here today when you put him on your witness list, did you not?"

"Yes, sir, I did; but…"

"No buts, Ms. Ellison. You either rest your case now and send it to the jury or I will declare a mistrial."

"Your Honor, without this detective's testimony to corroborate with Lieutenant Cheryl Banks testimony from yesterday, the prosecution has no case. Please give me one more day to find out what's going on."

"Haven't we been at this long enough, Your Honor?" Goodwin complained. "Three weeks to be on trial for a drug charge is a bit much, don't you think?"

"I will grant Ms. Ellison's request to postpone this trial for one day."

"Your Honor!" Goodwin cried out.

"One day, counselor," Thompson repeated. "And I want your witness here tomorrow at nine sharp. If he's not present, I'll have no choice except to declare a mistrial." He struck his gavel on the block. "Court's adjourned until nine tomorrow morning."

The courtroom began to empty out. Goodwin returned to the defense table, sitting down next to Torres.

"I thought you were going to get me off today!" Torres hissed

"So you have to wait in jail one more day," Goodwin whispered. "You'll be out tomorrow morning; Lieutenant Sloan will not be showing up."

The bailiff approached the table, motioning that it was time to take the prisoner back to his cell.

Torres whispered to his lawyer, "You'll go to the house and take care of things?"

"I will."

Torres got up and walked away with the bailiff. Standing up to leave, Goodwin looked over at Ellison and smiled; closing his briefcase, he turned and walked away.

Cheryl and Mark entered into the courtroom, passing Goodwin in the aisle as they walked over to Ellison.

The A.D.A. slammed her briefcase shut and turned to face her. "Where the hell is your partner? Do you know that he almost cause this case to be a mistrial today?"

Cheryl hesitated, momentarily taken aback by Ellison's angry accusation.

"You tell him if he doesn't show up tomorrow, this case is over and Rolando Torres goes free. And if that happens, I'll make sure that Lieutenant Sloan loses his badge."

Ellison turned to walk away.

Cheryl grabbed her by the arm. "Wait just a minute, I don't know where Steve is; I was hoping that he was here."

"And he never showed up to pick me up," Mark stated.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is?"

"As far as we knew at the station, Steve was going to pick up his dad at the airport and then come here to testify."

Before Ellison could answer, Cheryl's cellular phone rang. She took it off her belt and flipped it open. "Banks…. Yes Capt… What?" She looked at Mark and Ellison. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"What was that all about?" Mark asked afraid of what the answer was going to be.

Cheryl frowned. "Captain Newman found Steve's truck."

"Where?"

"In the parking lot of the airport."

"I'll follow in my car," Ellison said, grabbing her briefcase. "Let's go." She followed them out of the courtroom.

Steve heard the muffled voices as he began to regain consciousness. The first thing he realized besides the dull ache in his head, was that he was sitting in a chair, his hands tied behind his back.

Opening his eyes, he flinched at the bright light shining into his face. He immediately shut them again.

"Nice of you to join us, Lieutenant Sloan."

Steve opened his eyes more slowly this time, squinting against the brightness. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"All in good time, Lieutenant Sloan." The voice came from behind the light. "You'll find out what's going on, all in good time."

Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He was scared, but he couldn't let his captors know. Taking a deep breath, he tried calming himself. "Well, since it seems I'm not going anywhere, I think I have the right to know what's happening to me."

"You have no rights here, Lieutenant. Sloan."

Steve heard the door to the room open and the sound of footsteps coming across the floor. The voices behind the light began to whisper.

"Hey! You want to fill me in?"

The whispering stopped. Steve strained to see beyond the bright light, but all he saw was a figure moving in the shadows. Sensing someone behind him, he tensed, waiting for what was to come next. He felt his hands being untied, but before he could even make a move, he felt strong hands grab his arms. He struggled against them, but their grips only tightened more.

"What do you want from me?"

"You haven't figured it out yet, Lieutenant Sloan?" And you're supposed to be on to the top homicide detectives in L.A."

Steve swallowed hard. "Yeah well, you guys are going to be doing hard time when the police…"

"Wrong again, Lieutenant Sloan. You can yell for help all you want; no one is going to hear you, and no one is going to find this place."

Steve shifted uneasily against the sets of hands that held him in place.

"Roll up his sleeve."

Steve felt his sleeve being unbuttoned and rolled up. He looked towards the figure that was behind the light; he caught a glimpse of the face.

_Jesus Christ, Goodwin._

Steve watched him come from behind the light; there was something in his hand. Once he came closer, Steve saw it was a syringe. He struggled to pull away, without success.

Tying a tourniquet around Steve's upper arm, Goodwin smiled. "Just relax, Lieutenant Sloan. You'll feel a pin prick and then after that, the most wonderful feeling of euphoria you'll ever experience." He laughed and brought the needle to Steve's arm.

Steve could hear his heart pounding in his chest and wondered if his captors could as well. He felt the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. _What the hell is he giving me?_

He watched in horror as the need was stuck into his arm and the contents injected into his vein.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3:**

Cheryl reached the airport parking lot. She threw her car into park.

Getting out of her car, Ellison pulled up behind her. Mark and Cheryl rushed over to where Captain Newman was standing. "What do we have so far?"

"Nothing," he said.

"What do you mean nothing?" Mark asked

"Just what I said, Doctor Sloan. Nothing."

Ellison walked up to the small group. "Is there any sign of Lieutenant Sloan anywhere?"

"Afraid not," Newman said. "I have a team going through the parking lot and the airport and so far nothing."

"How can someone just disappear from an airport, and no one see anything?" Mark asked.

"People were more concerned with catching their flights or meeting up with others to notice something else happening."

"Well, you have less than twenty-four hours to find him or I'm going to lose this case," Ellison informed them.

"Is there any way you can ask the judge for more time?" Newman asked.

"No. I practically had to beg him for the time I got."

"Torres is behind this," Mark said.

"And exactly what kind of proof do you have Doctor Sloan?" Ellison asked.

"No proof, this is just something Torres would do."

"Well, without any proof, it's going to be hard to keep Torres in jail until we find Steve."

Mark thought hard. "Torres knows that Steve's testimony, coupled with Cheryl's, would put him away for life. He must have gotten some help from friends on the outside to make Steve suddenly disappear on the day of his testimony."

"Like I said; without any proof, the judge isn't going to go for postponing this trial any longer than tomorrow."

"Isn't there some way that we can make this judge keep Torres in jail until we find Steve?" Newman asked.

"I'll work on it. You guys just keep working on locating Steve; I'll call you when I come up with something."

"Okay," Cheryl said. "If we find anything before we hear from you, we'll call."

Once Ellison walked away from them, Newman glanced at Mark.

"Doctor Sloan," he said. "I'm going to have to ask you to stay out of this one."

"Stay out of this," Mark said surprised. "This is my son we are talking about here."

"And you'll be too personally involved," Newman said. "Let us handle this one."

Mark began to speak.

"Please Doctor Sloan," Newman said. "Let us handle this one, and if you interfere I'll have you arrested."

Cheryl watched her Captain walk away and she walked over to Mark.

"How can I not be involved," Mark told her.

"I think Captain Newman's right on this one," Cheryl said.

"But you guys have no idea where he is," Mark started, "if…if he's alive or dead?"

"No we don't."

Tears began to form. Mark quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath.

"Steve knows how to take care of himself," Cheryl assured him. "I'm sure when we find him, he's going to be just fine."

"You'll keep me posted, won't you?"

"Of course I will."

Mark looked up at the sky.

"You going to be okay?" Cheryl asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Look I need to get back to the station. I'll have one of the patrol cars take you home, and if you need anything, call."

Mark nodded.

Cheryl turned to leave. Mark moved closer to her and grabbed her arm. Cheryl turned and looked at him.

Mark's eyes filled with tears. "Please find him."

"I will, I promise," Cheryl said with a reassuring smile. "I'll bring him back safe and sound."

"Thank you."

Cheryl turned and walked away.

Mark looked upwards again, the tears that threatened to fall before trickled down his face. "Dear God, please bring my son back safe and unharmed."

Steve moaned as consciousness began to come back to him. He could feel the hardness of the floor underneath him. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized that he was now in a different room. He sat up, and taking a deep breath, he rubbed the sweat out of his eyes and tried to focus on what his new cell looked like. This room had more light coming in. Steve continued to look around; the wallpaper on the wall was faded and peeling away, and the wood floor he sat on was scuffed and worn. Steve's eyes finally settled on the door across the room. Shaking his head to help clear his vision, he looked at the door again.

Steve struggled to his feet, his equilibrium gone. Staggering across the room, he fell to his knees just short of the door. Trying to stand up, a wave a nausea his him, sending him back to his knees.

He could taste the bile at the back of his throat. He swallowed hard. _Not now, Sloan._

Looking up at the door, he prayed that it would be open. Getting up once again, he thought _please let it be open._ He pulled on the handle. It didn't move. "No."

Leaning his head against the door, he closed his eyes. _God please help me get out of here._

Steve continued standing at the door, wishing that when he opened his eyes, the nightmare would go away. It was just that, a nightmare.

His stomach churned from the smell radiating from his body. He grew hotter and hotter with each passing second. Sweat trickled down his back, making his shirt cling to his body. He could feel the back of his hair sticking to his neck. Sweat ran down his forehead, stinging his eyes. Wiping it away, he saw the window across the room.

"God, let this be the way out," he said.

Steadying himself as best he could, he moved towards the window, his hopes rising with each step.

He pulled back the curtain. Glass bricks blocked the window from the outside.

"No. Oh no." Steve staggered backwards, his body thudding against the wall. The room spun as he slid down to the floor.

Bringing his knees to his chest, he buried his head in his arms. _I'm in Hell, and I'm never going to get out._

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Steve looked up and shook his head as the room continued to spin. Goodwin and his men walked toward him.

"Lieutenant Sloan, did you have a good nap?" Goodwin asked.

"What the hell did you give me?" Steve asked.

"What, you didn't like it?" Goodwin asked with a laugh. He snapped his fingers and one of his men handed him a syringe. "Well, we're just going to have to do something about that now, aren't we?"

Goodwin's men made a move towards Steve. Getting up quickly, Steve belted Jackson square in the jaw sending him to the floor. Franklin went rushing towards him, only to be met with a kick to the stomach.

Steve, seeing both men on the floor, figured he only had Goodwin to get through before making his escape through the now opened door.

He moved towards Goodwin, who began backing up. Steve stole one last glance towards the men on the floor. He thought with those two still down he was finally going to make his escape. Hands grabbed him from behind and he struggled against them. A crashing blow to his stomach stopped him. The guy holding Steve let him go, and he fell to the floor gasping for air.

The two men grabbed Steve roughly by his arms once more and pulled him up. Slamming him against the wall, Jackson pinned his arm up so that Goodwin could have easier access to it.

Goodwin walked up to them and tied a tourniquet on Steve's right arm. Jabbing him with the needle for the second time, he release its contents into his vein.

Steve felt them let him go; he slid down the wall once again. As the drugs took over his senses, he sat staring into nothingness.

Goodwin started to laugh, kneeling down next to him. "You might as well stop fighting us, Sloan, you aren't going to win." Standing up, he began to walk out. "See you in another couple of hours, Lieutenant Sloan. Maybe by that time you'll be a little more cooperative." He laughed again and walked out of the room with the other men.

Steve huddled on the floor against the wall, staring into nothingness. A single tear fell, sliding down his cheek into the black hole of his hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**PART 4:**

Jesse walked into Mark's office, balancing tow cups of coffee in his hands. He made his way over to Mark's desk.

Sitting down on the edge of his desk, he held on of the cups to him. "Coffee?"

Mark threw a file down and sat back in his chair. "Thanks, Jess."

Jesse motioned to the file. "What was that all about?"

"Cheryl was kind enough to drop off a copy of the report on what was found at the airport."

"And?"

Mark took a sip of his coffee. "Nothing in the parking lot or inside the airport."

"Damn it! Did Cheryl say if there was any word on the streets?"

"Nothing. No one heard of anyone planning on kidnapping a cop."

Mark took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"I'm going to talk with Torres," Mark said.

"Oh sure, talk with Torres," Jesse said sarcastically. "He'll let you know where Steve is." Jesse looked over at Mark and for the first time he saw the fear in his eyes he had for Steve. He immediately regretted what he just said. "I'm sorry, Mark. Not knowing anything on this case is starting to get to me."

"It's getting to me too, Jesse. I want to find Steve just as badly as you and the cops do."

"Well isn't that what we should do?" Jesse asked. "Leave it to the cops like Captain Newman said."

"As much as Newman's threat to arrest me if I get involved is nagging at me," Mark replied. "I just can't sit here and do nothing."

"So, you think talking with Torres is going to help?"

Mark took a deep breath. "Not really, but it couldn't hurt to see if we can get him to say something about Steve's whereabouts."

"When are you going to see him?"

Mark looked at his watch. "Visiting hours start in an hour. I was planning on going then."

"I'll come by your office in an hour. I want to go with you."

"Jesse, you don't have to come with me," Mart stated.

"I know I don't, but I want to," Jesse replied. "And besides you shouldn't be going to see Torres by yourself."

"I think I can handle Torres by myself."

"I'm sure you can," Jesse said. "But I want to help."

"What with the questioning?" Mark asked.

"No, I'm sure you'll handle that just fine."

"Then what are you going to help me with?"

"I want to be there to help bail you out once Newman arrests you for what you're doing," Jesse replied.

Mark smiled as he watched Jesse walk out of his office.

Ellison sat in Judge Thompson's office waiting for him to come in.

She kept glancing at her watch. _What is taking him so long?_

At that moment Judge Thompson walked in. "Make this quick, Ellison. My wife has dinner waiting at home for me."

"Your Honor, I need to speak to you about the Torres case."

"Where's Mr. Torres' attorney?"

"I didn't inform him of this meeting, Your Honor."

Judge Thompson stared hard at Ellison. "You know I can't discuss this case without his attorney present. Why are you wasting my time and yours?"

"Your Honor, the reason I didn't ask Goodwin to be here is because my witness Lieutenant Steve Sloan, has disappeared. The Los Angeles Police Department believes that Torres might be behind his sudden disappearance."

"Do you have any proof of this?"

"Not yet, Your Honor, but the police department is working on it. I'm asking you to postpone this case until we can find Lieutenant Sloan and prove it was Torres who kidnapped him."

"You want me to postpone this trial past tomorrow, and yet you have no proof that Torres did anything to Lieutenant Sloan?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you actually think I would go for this, Ellison? If Lieutenant Sloan isn't in court by tomorrow morning at nine a.m. then consider this case over." Thompson stood up. "That's my final decision."

Ellison rose. "No, wait!"

The judge stopped and looked angrily at Ellison.

"You have to keep Torres in jail," Ellison insisted. "If you don't, he'll be back out on the streets selling his drugs to those kids again. Could you live with yourself, knowing that's what this man is doing?" Would you want him selling those drugs to your own grandchildren?"

Ellison saw the judge's angry stare soften, but nonetheless he continued to stare at her before he sat back down at his desk.

"Please, Your Honor," she pleaded. "You have to keep this guy in jail."

"You have seventy-two hours, Ms. Ellison." He coughed suddenly. "I must have caught that flu bug that's been going around."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Ellison said with a smile.

"Goodwin's going to want another judge put on the case," Thompson said. "But I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

"Again, thank you."

"The thought of him selling drugs to kids, especially my grandchildren was a cheap shot, but it worked," he said with a wry smile. "Don't ever do it again, just find Lieutenant Sloan and have him in this courthouse in seventy-two hours."

"I will, Your Honor."

Mark paced the floor in the meeting room, while Jesse sat at the table. Both were waiting for Torres to be brought to them. Mark stopped once he heard the door open. Cheryl walked in and over to Mark.

"Doctor Sloan," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Torres."

"You want Captain Newman to arrest your for interfering?"

"No," Mark answered. "But please Cheryl, let me do this.

"I'll probably get in trouble for this," Cheryl replied. "But alright you can stay."

They all looked at the door once they heard it open again. A guard walked in with Torres, he stood in front of the door.

Showing her badge to the guard Cheryl said. "We would like some time alone with this prisoner."

The guard looked at the identification and satisfied at what he saw, he left the room.

Torres walked up to the table and sat down. "Hello Doctor Sloan," he looked at Jesse and then Cheryl. "New partner, Lieutenant Banks?"

"No Torres," Cheryl answered. "Lieutenant Sloan is still my partner."

"Oh he is, is he?" Torres sneered. "That's funny because he didn't show up for court this morning. So I thought he just decided to give up his day job."

Mark walked over to the other side of the table and sat down beside Jesse. "You know where he is, don't you?"

Lacing his hands behind his head, Torres sat back in his chair and smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mark felt his anger start to build in the pit of his stomach.

"Why are you being so cooperative?" Jesse asked.

"If there was any way that I could help you in finding Lieutenant Sloan, I would, but I can't."

"Stuff it Torres, you know where he is and we're going to prove it," Cheryl said angrily.

"Now how would I know where he is? I've been in jail this whole time."

"Tell us now," Cheryl said, "and I'm sure the judge will go easy on you."

Torres smiled. "How can I tell you something that I know nothing about?"

Mark launched himself at Torres.

Jesse's hand shot out, grabbing Mark's upper arm. "Mark!"

"He knows where Steve is," he protested.

The door to the meeting room flew open. Goodwin with Captain Newman behind him came rushing in, and walked up to the table.

"What the hell is going on here?" Newman demanded.

Looking at him, "They think I had something to do with Lieutenant Sloan's disappearance," Torres said.

Goodwin looked at the three of them. "You questioning my client without his attorney present?"

"He agreed to this meeting, Goodwin," Mark answered.

"We just wanted to see if he knew anything about Lieutenant Sloan," Cheryl said.

"Well, my client has nothing more to say. And I'll be filing a harassment suit against the both of you tomorrow morning."

Mark and Jesse stood.

Mark walked up to Goodwin and with a cold stare said, "You do what your have to do, and I'm going to do what I have to do. And that's to prove that Torres is behind my son's disappearance."

"Let's go," Newman said.

Mark and Jesse followed the two cops out of the room.

Goodwin sat down at the table with his client. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Look, I knew what they were going to ask me," Torres explained. "I agreed to this meeting so I could see if they had anything on Sloan's whereabouts." 

"And?"

"They know nothing," Torres said with a satisfying smile on his face.

"Well, we have a problem."

Torres' eyebrow shot up. "What?"

"I just got word from the judge's office. This case has been postponed for seventy-two hours."

"What?!"

"Seems the judge came down with some kind of flu. Thinks he'll be back in three days."

"You said that you would get me out of here tomorrow!" Torres growled.

"Look, I'm working on getting another judge to hear this case tomorrow."

"And?"

"I said I was working on it."

"Oh man."

"Get a hold of yourself. The most you'll have to stay in here is one more day," Goodwin informed him.

Torres grabbed Goodwin by the shirt pulling him closer. "You get me out of here by tomorrow," he threatened. "Or you'll wish that you never lived."

Goodwin pulled away, straightening his shirt and tie. "Don't threaten me, Torres. If it wasn't for me, you'd be in jail for twenty-five to life right now. So you have to stay here maybe another three days. Sloan won't be testifying against you."

Torres sighed in frustration and looked at Goodwin. "How's it going?"

"He keeps fighting us. Give it another day, and we'll have him hooked."

"Increase the dosage."

"Look, we want him to get hooked on the heroin before we kill him."

Torres sat back in his chair. "If you give him his shots on the hour every hour, he'll get hooked."

"When do you want us to dump him?" Goodwin asked.

"Not until I'm out of here," Torres answered.

"Why?"

"Cause, I want the last face that Lieutenant Sloan sees to be mine," Torres grinned. "I can't wait to see the look on his father's face when they find his body all shot up with heroin."


	5. Chapter 5

**PART 5:**

The doors to the squad room came flying open. Captain Newman pushed his way through the crowd of officers that stood there.

Cheryl, Mark and Jesse silently followed behind him.

"What the hell where you thinking?" Newman yelled at Mark once they were behind the closed door of his office. "Do you think I was joking when I said I'd have you arrested for interfering?"

"No not at all," Mark answered. "But after all these years of working with me, Captain, you should have known better. Especially since this involves Steve."

Captain Newman glared at Mark.

"I can't do anything," Mark continued. "I'll do my best to stay out of your way, but if I do find anything out I'll let you know."

Before Newman could respond, his phone began to ring.

Sitting down at his desk, he picked up the receiver. "Newman…Okay, what happened?... No, no other leads yet, but we're still working on it… Yeah, we'll keep you posted." He hung up the phone and looked at the others.

"Who was that?" Cheryl asked.

"That was Ellison. She was able to convince the judge to give her seventy-two hours."

"Well, seventy-two hours is better than nothing," Jesse said.

"Yeah, it is," Newman replied and looked at Mark. "Doctor Sloan, you can help, but if things start getting a little rough you're pulling out and letting us handle it right?"

"Oh yes, of course," Mark answered. "You know, I was just thinking. What if Torres' attorney is involved in this somehow?"

"Goodwin? What makes you think he's involved?" Newman asked.

"He's Torres' only connection to the outside," Mark said. "What's to say he didn't help him plan this?"

"The question is how do we prove it?" Jesse asked.

"We could have him tailed, see where that leads us," Cheryl suggested.

"Yeah we could do that," Newman said. "But he would be expecting that."

"Well then, maybe we just have to wait until he slips up," Jesse said.

"Unless he slips up in the next seventy-two hours," Newman replied. "Which I doubt he will, Torres will be let go."

Newman looked at his watch. "Look it's getting late," he said. "Why don't we all go home and get a good nights rest and meet back here in the morning."

"You'll call me if you hear anything?" Mark asked.

"You'll be the first person I call," Newman answered.

Cheryl and Captain Newman watched Jesse and Mark walk out of the office.

Newman looked at Cheryl. "Go home and get a good night's rest

"No, I don't think I can sleep," Cheryl told him. "We have to figure out some way that Goodwin is involved and figure out where they might be keeping Steve."

She walked out of the office and over to her desk. Newman followed her out.

"Listen, Cheryl, we can do that all tomorrow," he told her. "I need you at your best, so you're going home to take a nice hot bath and go to bed." He gave her a stern look. "And this is not a request, it's an order from your captain."

"All right, all right. I'll go but I won't get a good night's sleep," Cheryl said. "You going home?"

"No, I have some paperwork to get done before I go home."

"Okay, if you hear anything, you know where to reach me."

"Right," he said and watched her walk out of the squad room. He took a deep breath and then walked over to his office.

Goodwin walked into the house and his right hand man, Jackson, moved over to him.

"How's our guest doing?" Goodwin asked.

"He's shaking."

Goodwin looked at his watch. "How long ago was his last dose?"

"About four hours."

"Okay, Torres wants us to start giving him a shot every hour on the hour," Goodwin said. "We'll start now."

"Everything's ready."

"Good, go get the stuff, and Alex, I want you two to hang back. I think Lieutenant Sloan will be asking for the stuff without any help from us this time."

"Yes, sir," Jackson said. He walked off to get what he was asked.

Steve lay curled on the cold floor. His body shook and sweat soaked his clothes. The door creaked, and he lifted his head. Blinking the sweat away from his eyes, he tried to focus on the figures in the doorway.

"Hello there, Lieutenant Sloan," Goodwin said, shaking his head. "You don't look so good. You feeling okay?"

Steve locked his eyes with the attorney. Slowly, he pushed himself upright on shaky legs.

"Well now, I have something here that is going to make you feel a whole lot better," he said, wiggling the syringe between his fingers. "Now, wouldn't you like to feel better? All you have to do is say the word, Sloan, and it's yours," he said. "Come on, Sloan, just give me the word."

"Go to fuckin' hell," Steve spat, lunging at the man and knocking the syringe out of his hand.

Goodwin hit Steve in the face, sending him crashing to the floor. "You son of a bitch," he yelled and kicked Steve in the stomach.

Steve lay on the hard floor, moaning in pain.

Goodwin went over to the syringe and picked it up. "Let's see what kind of shape you're in two hours from now, Sloan. You'll be begging for this then."

Steve cried out in pain as Goodwin kicked him again. With an evil laugh, Goodwin turned around and walked out of the room with his men behind him.

Steve stayed on the floor. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he heard the door close. A smile played across his lips, as his eyes closed.

Amanda walked down the hall of the hospital. Passing Mark's office she noticed the light was on, she looked at her watch. It was well after midnight.

Walking in and through the receptionist area, she stood in the door way of his office. "What are you doing here?"

Mark looked up from the file he was reading. "Paperwork," he answered.

Amanda walked over to his desk. "Paperwork that could wait until tomorrow," she said. "After you've gotten some sleep."

"I'm not tired," Mark said.

"When was the last time you slept, Mark?" Amanda asked.

"I got a couple of hours of sleep on the plane," he answered.

"I see," Amanda replied. "Well a couple of hours isn't enough. You need to go home."

"I'll be okay."

"Mark, I know you're worried about Steve," Amanda started. "We all are, but not taking care of yourself isn't going to help Steve."

Mark closed the file in front of him and sat back in his chair. "I've already been home and tried to sleep, I just couldn't."

"Come on," Amanda said as she walked around his desk and grabbed a hold of his arm. "Let's go find a nice quiet empty room so you can get some sleep."

She helped Mark to a standing position.

"What if we don't find him, Amanda?" Mark asked. "What if who ever took him kills him before we find him?"

Amanda looked at her friend and saw the tears in his eyes, her heart broke for him. "That's foolish talk from someone who is obviously very tired," she said. "Of course we're going to find Steve and everything is going to be all right."

"I hope your right."

"Of course I'm right," Amanda said as she led Mark out of his office. "When have I ever been wrong?"

Mark smiled at his friend. "Thank you, Amanda."

Amanda smiled in return. "Come let's find you a bed," she said as she led Mark down the hall.

Steve hadn't moved from his spot on the floor. He was covered in sweat and his body shook. His head jerked up when he heard the door open. Wiping the sweat dripping into his eyes, he saw Goodwin walk toward him and Franklin and Jackson in the background.

"Lieutenant Sloan," Goodwin said. "Are you ready to try this again?" He knelt down next to Steve. "Here, let me help you sit up." He grabbed Steve by the arm and helped him sit up against the wall.

Steve wiped his bloodied lip and stared at the syringe in Goodwin's hand.

"Oh, did I do that?" Good asked. "Well, we'll take care of that in a little while, but let's take care of first things first." He dangled the syringe in front of Steve.

Steve looked at Goodwin and then the syringe and then back at Goodwin.

"Come on Sloan," Goodwin said. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Now I'm sure you would rather do this the easy way, wouldn't you?"

"You're going to have to kill me before I give in to you," Steve hissed.

"Have it your way," Goodwin said, standing. "Boys."

Goodwin watched his men walk over to Steve. He watched as Steve tried to fight them, shaking his head in disbelief, he couldn't tell whether it was because of the drugs or it Steve was just being plain stupid. Nonetheless his men had Steve pinned up against the wall within seconds.

Goodwin walked over to Steve, tying a tourniquet around his arm. "Give it up, Sloan. You're not going to beat us."

He pushed the contents of the syringe into Steve's vein.

Once Goodwin's men felt Steve's body relax, they let him go. His body slid down the wall to the floor.

"Sleep well, Lieutenant Sloan," Goodwin said. "We'll be back soon to do this again."

Steve watched Goodwin and his men walk out of the room. Pulling his legs up to his chest, he let the tears fall. _God, I can't do this anymore, _he thought. _I can't fight them, I just can't fight them._


	6. Chapter 6

**PART 6:**

Steve slowly stirred from his sleep. As soon as full consciousness registered in his brain, he wished for sleep again. His hole body ached. He slowly sat up and let his upper body fall against the wall. He couldn't stop shaking.

He looked around the dimly lit room, trying to remember where he was. His body screaming out to him that it needed something, his brain telling him that he had to get out of there. But what did he need and why did he have to get out of there? He couldn't remember. He shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs so he could think. Then it dawned on him. Goodwin and the shot. It slowly started to come back to him. Goodwin kept giving him something last night. He was always coming into the room just as Steve was falling asleep and injecting him with something. That's what he needed to make him stop shaking, that's what his body was telling him he need: that shot.

He wasn't sure what time it was. Hell, he didn't even know what day it was. But he watched the door and waited. He knew that Goodwin would probably be coming by soon to give the shot. He wished soon was now. His whole body was crying out for it now. Sweat ran down his face and stung his eyes, but he continued to watch the door.

Only minutes passed, but to Steve it seemed like hours. Finally he decided to get up and go over to the door and get Goodwin to come to him. He stood up slowly, dizziness overtaking him. Leaning up against the wall, he closed his eyes until it passed. Looking at the door once again, he wiped the sweat from his eyes. The door seemed so far away.

_You can do this, _he thought to himself.

An eternity later, he reached the door. Steve leaned his head against it and closed his eyes as the dizziness returned. Looking down at the door knob, he tried to turn it – locked.

Banging his fist against the door, he called. "Hey! Is…is anyone out…out there?" He continued to bang on the door.

Steve heard the door being unlocked and quickly backed away, almost stumbling over his own feet. The door flew open and Jackson stood in the doorway looking very angry.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!" he yelled at Steve.

"Goodwin, I…I need to…to see him. I need…need the…the shot."

"So that give you the right to bang on the door and wake me up?!" Jackson yelled, walking into the room. Franklin appeared behind him, rubbing the sleepiness from his face.

Steve ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair. "You…you have the…the stuff with…with you?"

A backhand across the face sent him falling to the floor.

"This is what I have for you," Jackson said. He walked over to Steve and picked him up the front of his shirt. "I'm going to teach you not to bang on the door this early in the morning." He punched Steve in the face, sending him to the floor once more.

Jackson turned around and looked at Franklin. "You want to join me?"

Before Franklin could take a step into the room, Goodwin walked in. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jackson looked up. "He decided to wake us up, so I'm teaching him a lesson." He drew back his foot to kick Tom who was still on the floor.

Goodwin stepped forward to stop him. "That's enough. What did he want?"

"He wants the shot."

"Then go get it for him, you idiot."

Goodwin knelt next to Steve. "So, we finally broke you, Sloan; let's just see if we really did.'

Jackson returned to the room with syringe and tourniquet in hand and handed it to his boss.

Goodwin dangled the syringe in front of Steve's face. "Is this what you want, Sloan?"

Steve looked at Goodwin and then the syringe and then back at Goodwin. He slowly raised his badly shaking arm out toward the man.

_No! his brain screamed out. Don't give in, you can't give in to them._

"What's that? Did you say something? I didn't quite hear you, Sloan," Goodwin goaded.

"Give me some," he said in a whisper.

_Snap out of this, Sloan. Tell him to go to hell._

"What was that? I don't think Joseph and Alex heard you."

"I want some," Steve said louder this time.

_Fight, Sloan, fight!_

"Please?"

"Please." _No!_

"That's a good boy, Sloan," Goodwin said, taking the tourniquet and tying it around Steve's arm. "You made the right choice," he continued, sliding the needle into the vein. "And there's plenty more where this came from."

Once Goodwin administered the heroin into Steve's system, he stood up and looked down at the cop. "Now, you just relax, Sloan. I'll be back before I leave to give you more, but you have to be a good boy in order to get more. Can you do this for us, Sloan?"

Steve looked at him and nodded his head yes.

Goodwin laughed. "Look at him now. One of Los Angeles top homicide detectives – a heroin junkie." He laughed again as he followed his men out the door.

Mark walked into the squad room, making his way through the group of officers before finally reaching his sons' desk; he looked at his empty chair. Closing his eyes, he wished that when he opened them Steve would be sitting there like always, and this whole thing would have been a nightmare. He felt a hand on his shoulder that made his heart jump. Opening his eyes he saw Cheryl standing next to him.

"Hey," he said with a smile.

"Hey yourself. You okay?"

Mark's smiled faded. "No, not really."

Cheryl guided him into Captain Newman's office and closed the door behind them. Newman watched as Mark went over to the nearest chair sitting down, he finally let the tears fall.

Newman walked over to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Doctor Sloan."

"I hate not knowing where he is," he choked out. "Not knowing if he's dead or alive."

"Maybe I should keep you away from this case," Newman suggested.

Mark wiped the tears away. "Don't you dare."

"You're too personally involved here."

"Please, I need to be on this case."

"Okay."

Cheryl looked at Newman more closely, realizing that he was still in the same clothes from the day before. "You were here all night, weren't you?"

Newman walked over to his desk and sat down. Taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes, he replied. "Guilty."

"I thought you said you were going to go home after you finished some paperwork?"

"I lied."

Mark got up and moved closer to the desk. "What were you doing here all night?"

"I put out Steve's picture to every police station in Los Angeles," he told them. Picking up a file, he threw it across his desk.

"What's this?" Cheryl asked, picking it up.

Getting up, Newman walked to the front of his desk and leaned on the edge. "Found every warehouse, house, and piece of property that both Torres and Goodwin have here in L.A. Figured if they have Steve, they could be holding him at one of those places."

Cheryl opened the file and started looking through it. "I'll get on this right away."

Newman held his hand out to her. "Give me half the list."

"Oh no, you're going home and getting some rest."

"I'm okay. I was able to get a couple of hours sleep on the couch."

Cheryl continued to hold the file in her hand.

"Are you going to tell me you got more than a couple of hours sleep yourself?"

Cheryl smiled. "You know me to well." She looked through the file and handed Newman one of the sheets. "Here, you take this and I'll handle these."

Newman took the list from here and looked it over. "This is probably going to take us all morning. I'm going to get some other officers on this as well. Let's say we meet here at three."

"Sure," she said. "If I find anything or I'm running late, I'll call."

"Same here." Grabbing his jacket, Newman followed Cheryl and Mark out of the office.

Torres sat down t the table across from Goodwin. "You getting me out of here today?"

"Still trying to find a judge."

"Well try harder," Torres said angrily. "I want out of here now!"

"Don't you think I've been trying hard? Seems that every judge is busy with another case."

"You're telling me that there isn't one judge who can listen to this case for maybe just an hour."

"That's what I'm telling you."

Torres ran his hand through his hair. "Oh man, I need to get out of here. There is no way I can wait another two days."

"What's the big deal if you don't get out of here today?"

"The big deal is that everyday I'm in here, I'm losing big money."

"Your operation is still going," Goodwin told him. "I've seen to that, so you aren't losing any money."

"Just see what you can do about getting me out of here now."

"Look, I'm trying the best I can to get you out of here," Goodwin said. "So you wait here two more days, no matter what happens Sloan isn't going to show up and a mistrial will be declared."

"Yeah, but what happens if they police just happen to find Sloan's body? Wouldn't that get me out sooner?"

Goodwin leaned in closer to Torres. "What are you saying?"

"We finish off Sloan now, and the police find his body. I won't have to wait another two days for the mistrial to be called." Torres sat back in his chair and stared at Goodwin.

"You want me to kill Sloan?"

"I can't wait two more days for the judge to call a mistrial," Torres said, sitting up and leaning in closer. "Finish the son of a bitch off. Dump him in the alleyway downtown. You know where."

"Yes I know."

"Good," Torres said with a smile. "It's too bad that this is the price Lieutenant Sloan will have to pay for being the nosey cop he is."


	7. Chapter 7

**PART 7:**

Goodwin came racing up the driveway. Throwing his car into park, he got out and ran up the stairs to the house.

"Where the hell is the fire?" Jackson asked, walking out of the kitchen in time to see Goodwin come running in.

"We're moving on with the plan," Goodwin said walking past him into the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw Franklin sitting at the kitchen table with a needle in his arm. "What the hell is going on here?"

Jackson came in behind him.

Turning around to face him. "I'm not paying you two to sit here and get high. God damn it, we have to get Sloan out of here, and you two are high as a kite."

"We can still help you," Jackson said.

Goodwin looked at Jackson and then Franklin. He shook his head. "I have no choice. I'm going to give Sloan another shot for this trip."

"We just gave him a shot."

"Well then giving him another one now won't hurt him that much, will it?" Goodwin asked, picking up a syringe and tourniquet. "We need him doped up good before we dump him."

"Why dope him up more when we're just going to kill him?" Jackson asked.

"Do me a favor, stop asking stupid questions. And get the other syringe ready."

Goodwin walked into Steve's room. Stave sat on the floor, staring at the wall, oblivious to the fact that Goodwin was in the room.

"Lieutenant Sloan."

Steve looked at him and then the needle.

"Look what I brought you," Goodwin said, sitting on the floor next to him. "We're going to take you away from here." He tied the tourniquet onto Steve's arm.

Steve looked down at what Goodwin was doing, and then he looked up. "Where…where are you…you taking me?"

"On a trip. A long trip that you're going to enjoy very much."

Steve fought to keep his eyes open. "Will I…I be come…coming back here…here from this trip?"

Goodwin smiled as Steve's eyes closed. "This is a trip you won't be returning from Lieutenant Sloan."

Jackson and Franklin appeared at the door. Goodwin go up off the floor and faced them.

"Get him into the car."

Jackson and Franklin got Steve up and moving out of the room, out of the house and down the stairs to the waiting car. After dumping the drugged detective into the back seat, Franklin jumped in the back. Jackson sat in the front next to Goodwin, who started to pull out of the driveway.

Mark and Cheryl got into her departmental issued car.

Taking a pen from his pocket, Mark crossed out something on the paper in his hand. Sighing he leaned his head back against the head rest. Jumping when he heard Cheryl's cell phone ring.

"Banks, Captain…No, nothing yet… Yeah, I know… Still have…" Mark showed her the list. "About five more places to check out…No, heading downtown, that's where most of the places are…Okay…Yeah, I'll call you when we're done… All right…Bye." She flipped the cell phone closed, started her car, and drove away.

Steve slowly opened his eyes when he heard the voices talking. Realizing that he was in a car, he decided to close his eyes and listen to the conversation that was going on around him.

"Where are we taking him?"

"Alleyway, downtown. We'll dump him there and shoot him up with heroin. Once we see that he's dead, I'll place a call to the police department and let them know where he is."

Steve's mind was reeling. He knew he had to get out of the car before they killed him. He felt the car slowing down; opening his eyes, he carefully looked up to see that they were stopping for a red light. _This was his chance,_ he thought. He looked over at Franklin whose attention seemed to be on looking out the window instead of watching him. Once the care came to a complete stop, Steve went into action.

He kicked Franklin in the face as hard as he could. Opening the door, he fell out of the car onto the pavement below.

"Oh shit! Get him!" Goodwin yelled.

Steve had already recovered from his fall and was stumbling across the street toward the alleyway.

Two officers sitting in a patrol car caught sight of him staggering across the street.

One of the officers looked at a flyer they had just received. "Hey, isn't that Lieutenant Sloan?"

"Yeah, I think you're right. Call it in and let's go check it out." He started the car, putting on the siren; he drove toward the alley.

Goodwin caught up to Jackson and grabbed his arm once he saw the squad car pulling down the alley.

"Forget him," he said. "Let's get out of here."

They both ran back to the car, got in and took off.

Cheryl had just pulled onto the main strip of downtown Los Angeles when her cell phone rang again. She picked it up and continued to look at the address on the buildings. Flipping it open, she brought it up to her ear. "Banks."

"Cheryl, it's Captain Newman."

Alarmed at the tone in his voice, she said. "Captain, what's wrong?"

"Just got a call from the station; a patrol car spotted Steve."

"Where?"

"Downtown. Alleyway between Sixth and Seventh streets."

"We're about four blocks away from there, Captain. We'll go check it out."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

Cheryl flipped her cell phone closed and glanced over at Mark.

"Someone found Steve, didn't they?" Mark asked.

"That's what we're going to go find out," Cheryl answered. She put on her light, and sped toward the alleyway where they had just found Steve.

The patrol car slowly made its way down the alley.

There he is," the cop said, pointing to a figure on the ground.

His partner sped the car up a little and stopped right in front of Steve. Getting out of the car they approached Steve slowly.

"Lieutenant Sloan."

Steve looked up and saw the two cops walking towards him. He got up and leaned against the wall. "No…no, stay away."

They stopped and looked at each other.

"Lieutenant Sloan, we're here to help you."

Steve looked around like a trapped animal. He could see there was nowhere for him to go. He slid down the wall and brought his knees up to his chest. He began rocking back and forth.

Cheryl's car came racing up the alleyway, the tires screeching as she stopped the car and her and Mark jumped out of the car. Flashing her badge, she ran around the patrol car, stopping when she caught sight of Steve. "Oh my god."

Mark didn't want to believe it was his son that he was looking at. His hair was a tangled mess, his clothes were torn and dirty. Tears came to his eyes when he looked at his battered face.

"Steve," he said, walking over to him and kneeling down beside him. He put his hand on his shoulder. "Steve."

Steve looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. "Dad?" He moved close to him, wrapped his arms around his waist and sobbed.

Mark lost his balance under his weight and fell the rest of the way to the ground. He wrapped his arms around him as his own tears began to fall. He looked up when he heard another car approaching the scene.

One of the patrolmen took a hold of Steve's arm and pushed up his sleeve.

Captain Newman approached the group; he caught sight of Steve and took a deep breath.

"This guy is a junkie!" the cop said, seeing the marks on Steve's arm. "We have to call this in."

"No one is going to call this in," Newman said.

"It's procedure. We have to call it in to our captain."

"If your captain has anything to say, you tell him to call me. Do you understand, Officers? I'll take full responsibility for this."

The patrolmen backed away from Steve as Captain Newman knelt down next to his officer.

"Doctor Sloan," he said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Why the hell did they do this to him?" he asked. The tears rolled down his face.

Newman looked down at Steve. "I wish I knew, Doctor Sloan, I wish I knew. Let's get him to a hospital."

"No, Captain."

"Doctor Sloan."

"No, Steve got away from whoever took him and they're going to be looking for him. The first place they'll look is a hospital."

"Where do you suggest we take him? He needs medical care, Doctor Sloan."

"I know that, I can have what ever he needs brought to us." He looked down at Steve, who was still crying and then back at Captain Newman. "Please Captain; back me up on this one. Please."

"We can take him to on of the safe houses," Cheryl suggested.

"All right," Newman said, frowning. "We'll take him to one of the safe houses."

"Thank you," Mark whispered. "Come on, Steve. Let's get you out of here."

Newman helped Mark to his feet, and then they helped Steve.

Once they got him into Cheryl's car, Mark turned and looked at Captain Newman. "I'm going to call Jesse and Amanda, and them meet us at the safe house."

"Okay."

Mark got into the car and looked at Steve. "We're going to get the bastards who did this to you, Steve."

Cheryl started the car and drove away.


	8. Chapter 8

**PART 8:**

Jackson and Franklin walked into the house with Goodwin following them in a rage.

"How could you be so stupid?!" Goodwin yelled. "You were supposed to watch him. What the hell were you doing back there?"

"Hey man," Franklin said angrily. "You doped him up for this ride. I thought he was out."

"Well you thought wrong," Goodwin said. He began to pace back and forth. "Now the police have him."

"They probably took him to the hospital," Jackson said. "That's where we'll find him."

"Oh sure," Goodwin said sarcastically. "We'll just call up all the hospitals in Los Angeles and ask if Lieutenant Sloan is there and let them know that we want to come down and finish the job that we started." Feeling a headache coming on, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, they aren't going to take him to the hospital. They know we'll be out there looking for him."

"Then where did they take him?" Jackson asked.

"Probably a safe house," Goodwin answered.

"Well, what are we going to do then?"

"First thing first. I have to get Torres out of jail. Then I have to tell him that you screwed up and that Sloan got away." He walked away from them.

Jesse sat in his car, looking through the rearview mirror for any signs of Mark pulling up behind him. He called him earlier and told him to meet him and Cheryl at this address, but Mark didn't tell him why he wanted to meet here.

He looked around. The house was the only one near the beach. _What the hell is he up to?_ he thought.

Stealing one more glance in the rearview mirror he saw Cheryl coming up the driveway. He got out of his car. Walking toward the back, he stood by the trunk and waited for Mark to get out of the car.

Cheryl shut off the engine, and Mark looked back at Steve. He had passed out on the way to the house, his body lying across the back seat. He looked up and saw Jesse standing by his car. Getting out of the car, he walked over to him.

"You want to tell me what this is all about?" Jesse asked.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't explain anything over the phone to you, but we found Steve."

"You brought me out here to tell me this?" Jesse asked. "Where is he? Is he in this house?"

"No, he's in the car."

Jesse looked at the car. "Where?"

"He's passed out on the back seat. I need your help getting him inside the house."

"Okay."

They walked over to the car.

"Where's Amanda?" Mark asked.

"She getting all the stuff you asked for together," Jesse answered. "She should be here soon."

"Good," Mark said. He opened the back door of the car, giving Jesse his first look at Steve.

"Jesus Christ," he said. "What the hell?"

"I'll explain everything to you once we get him into the house."

Jesse reached into the car to grab hold of Steve. Seeing Steve wake up, Jesse smiled at him. "Come on, Steve, let's get you into the house." Before he could do anything else Steve started to hit and kick at him, flailing wildly. Jesse backed out of the car, and Steve moved over to the other side of the back seat to get away from him.

"What's wrong with him?" Jesse asked.

Mark ignored the question and looked into the car to see Steve with his knees up to his chest, his head buried in his arms.

"Steve," he said to him gently. "Look at me, Steve."

Steve didn't look up.

"Steven, I said look at me."

Steve slowly raised his head and looked at Mark. He wiped his runny nose on his sleeve, tears filled his eyes, and his body was trembling.

Steve reached for Mark's hand; grabbing hold, he started moving toward the open door. Mark helped him out of the car. Jesse moved to the other side and grabbed Steve's other arm. Side by side, they led him toward the house.

Once at the door, Cheryl took a key from its hiding place above the ledge of the door, unlocking it and pushing it open. They led Steve into the house and toward one of the back bedrooms.

Turning on the light, Mark and Jesse helped Steve over to the bed.

"I want to talk with you out there," Jesse said, pointing toward the door and walking out.

Mark turned to follow, but Steve grabbed his hand.

"Don't…don't leave me…me, dad," he begged him in a shaky voice.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he took a hold of his hand. "I'll be right outside the door, Steve. I'm not going anywhere."

"No…no…don't go," Steve said, eyes opened wide with fear. "They…they want to…to kill me. Please…please don't…don't go."

"You're safe now, Steve. No one is going to hurt you again."

Steve's eyes began to close. "They…they're after…after me, dad," he said in a low voice. "They… they want to…to kill me."

Mark continued to hold Steve's hand and watched him fall asleep. Once he was asleep, he let go of his hand and brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. Standing up from the bed, he leaned over and gave his son a kiss on the forehead.

"No one is going to harm you," he whispered. "I promise you that, Steve. They won't get their hands on you again."

He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the door, he wiped away his tears before joining Jesse and Cheryl in the other room.

Walking into the other room, he saw Jesse pacing back and forth.

"Okay, you going to tell me what's going on here?" Jesse asked. "Where did you find him? And what the hell happened to him?"

"You saw the needle marks in his arm. You figure it out."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Got a call that a patrol car spotted Steve downtown," he began to explain. "He was heading into an alleyway like someone was chasing him, but the officers said they saw no one."

"They turned him into a junkie," Jesse said.

"You mean Torres turned him into a junkie," Mark replied.

"How can you be sure?"

"Torres deals in heroin and heroin only," Cheryl chimed in. "Those marks on Steve's arms have to be from needles that were filled with heroin."

"Mark, we need to get him to a hospital. Then we can find out what's in his system. It might not be heroin."

"No, no hospitals."

"Mark, it's the only way we're going to find out what they shot him up with."

"Look, Steve got away from these guys. They're going to be looking for him, and the hospital will be the first place they'll start looking."

"The police could put a guard outside his door," Jesse suggested. "Mark, we can treat Steve better at the hospital."

"The airport was crowded the day he disappeared. And they still got him. These are professionals we're dealing with. If they can get someone in a crowd airport without anyone seeing a thing, they can easily get to him in a hospital."

"That's why you have Amanda bringing all that stuff here," Jesse said. "What happens if Steve needs more then what we have here for him, Mark?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Mark replied. "Please Jesse; just try to understand why this has to be done this way."

"Does Captain Newman know about this?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah, he knows."

"I'm behind you one hundred percent on this Mark," Jesse said. "But you have to promise me that if Steve needs to go to the hospital, you'll bring him there."

"I can't promise you that Jesse," Mark answered and walked away from his friend.

Mark continued to pace back and forth on the floor, while Cheryl sat in one of the chairs. Amanda had arrived ten minutes before and was now in the room with Jesse examining Steve. Mark stopped pacing and Cheryl looked up when they heard the front door unlock and then open. Captain Newman came walking into the house.

Cheryl got up and walked over to him.

"How's he doing?" he asked.

"He's in one of the back bedrooms. Doctor Bentley and Doctor Travis are in there examining him right now."

"How long have they been in there?"

"About ten minutes," Mark said.

They continued to wait. Mark was about to walk into the back when finally, Jesse and Amanda walked into the room.

"Okay, let's have it," Mark said. "How is he?"

"I took a sample from Steve so I can take it back to the lab with me and have a look at it," Amanda answered. "Looks like he was given heroin, but where it was just heroin and nothing mixed with it, I don't know. I should also be able to determine how much they were giving him, but I'm not sure."

"What about his physical injuries?" Newman asked.

"A lot of bruises, but nothing life threatening," Jesse answered.

"If this is heroin," Amanda said. "He's going to go through one hell of a withdrawal from it."

"What should we be looking for?" Cheryl asked.

"Nausea and vomiting, abdominal cramps, muscle spasms. He could go into irregular heartbeats. He'll have some weakness. A lot of aches and pains like he has the flu," Jesse answered.

"He'll probably sleep for awhile longer," Amanda said. "I'll get this to the lab and work on it right away and bring you back the results."

"Thanks, Amanda," Mark followed her to the door.

"Anytime, Mark."

"Call me as soon as you get the results."

"I will."

Amanda walked out the door, and Mark walked back over to the group.

"Okay," Newman said, "we have two days before Torres is released from jail. There is no way that Steve's going to be ready to testify in that amount of time."

"Don't worry," Cheryl said. "In two days we'll have enough proof against Torres to keep him and his lawyer behind bars for good."

"Can you guarantee that, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah, I can."


	9. Chapter 9

**PART 9:**

Goodwin was once again sitting at a table in the visiting area of the prison. A guard brought Torres over and he sat down across from his lawyer.

Torres watched the guard walk away and then looked at Goodwin. "Well, everything taken care of?"

"There's bee a little problem."

"Problem?" Torres said angrily. "What the hell kind of problem was there?"

"Lower your voice. Do you want everyone to hear you?"

"Tell me that Sloan is dead, and I'll be out of here by tonight. Then I'll lower my voice."

"That's the problem. Sloan's not dead?"

"Why not?" 

"He got away."

"Did I hear you right; he got away?"

Goodwin nodded.

"How the hell did a man who was doped up on heroin get away?"

"We were on our way to the alley downtown," Goodwin started explaining. "I had to stop for a red light and he kicked Franklin in the face and got out of the car and started running."

"Didn't you go after him?"

"Yes, but a patrol car spotted him running across the street and they went after him."

"You mean the cops have him?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I don't believe this," Torres said as he sat back in his chair. "You had him and all you had to do was dump him in an alley shot up full of heroin, and you couldn't even do that." He looked at Goodwin. "You able to find him yet?"

"No," Goodwin said. "The cops aren't going to be stupid enough to take him to the hospital. They probably have him at one of their safe houses."

"Oh great! Just great!"

"Look, there's someone at the police department I've been working on for certain information. If I offer him enough money, I can get the location of the safe house."

"Offer him whatever he wants," Torres said. "And tell him when he delivers the information, he'll get more."

"I'm working on getting you out of here tomorrow; I think I have a judge who will listen to the case. I'm just waiting for him to return my call."

"I don't care if you have to buy off a judge," Torres told him. "Just get me out of here now!"

------------------------------

Cheryl and Mark sat silently in the living room. Jesse came from the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee. He put it o the table and sat down.

"Thought we could use some," he said.

"Thanks," Mark said, taking a cup.

A crashing sound came from the back room. Jesse was the first one up and on his way to the room Cheryl and Mark followed him.

Jesse opened the door to the bedroom and saw Steve standing by the dresser. He was trying to stand the lamp he knocked over back up. He looked at Jesse with a confused expression. Cheryl and Mark hung back in the doorway.

Slowly Jesse started walking over to him. "Steve." He noticed that he was sweating and shaking.

Steve wiped his sleeve across his forehead. "Jess…I need some of…of that shot."

"No, you don't need any of that, Steve. Let's just get you back in bed so you can rest."

"I don't…don't want to rest, I need…need that shot…shot that…that guy gave…gave me."

Jesse continued to move closer to him.

Steve looked over at Cheryl. "You…you can get me…me some of…of that stuff," Steve pleaded. "The…the evidence locker you…you can get it…it from there."

"No, Steve," she said. "Let us help you back into bed."

"If…if you want…want to help…help me," he said angrily. "Then…then you will…will get me…me what I…I need."

"Please, Steve," Jesse said.

"No! I need that…that shot it…it will take…take away the…the pain." Steve put his hand out to stop Jesse from moving any farther. "Don't…don't come any closer."

Jesse stopped in his tracks, but he wouldn't take his eyes off of him.

Steve let go of the lamp he was holding, and it fell to the floor again. He stumbled across the room toward the door. Cheryl and Mark moved to block the door so that he couldn't leave.

"Move…move out of…of my way," he told them.

"Where do you think you're going, Steve?" Mark asked.

"To…to find that guy…guy with the shot."

"I'm sorry, Steve, but I can't let you do that."

Steve looked at both of them, not noticing the tears in his father's eyes. He suddenly groaned in pain and grabbed his stomach as he fell to the floor.

"Go call Amanda," Mark told Cheryl. "Tell her what's happening, she'll know what to bring."

Cheryl left the room, and Jesse and Mark reached Steve's side at the same time.

"Steve," Jesse said.

"Go…go away," he cried.

"Please, Steve," Mark said. "Let us help you."

"No!" Steve yelled. He moaned in pain again and continued to hold his stomach.

"Let's get you into the bed, Steve," Mark said, and he touched Steve on the shoulders.

Steve moved away from him. "I…I said leave me…me alone. Just…just go…go away."

Mark went to move toward him again, but Jesse stopped him. "Let's do what he says," he told him.

"But…" Mark said looking at Steve.

"He doesn't want our help right now," Jesse said. "Let's not push him."

Heart aching, Mark got up, his eyes on Steve who remained on the floor. He and Jesse slowly walked out of the room.

Once outside the room, Jesse closed the door. Mark went over to the wall, and leaned his head against it, and he started to cry. Jesse sagged against the door as Cheryl came up to them.

"Amanda is on her way," she told him. "Jesse?"

Jesse looked at her with tears in her eyes. "Thanks, Cheryl."

------------------------------

Once again Mark and Cheryl stood nervously in the living room, waiting for Amanda and Jesse to come out of Steve's room Mark stood by the window, his mind racing. He couldn't stop thinking about the report that Amanda had brought on Steve's lab results. He looked it over, Amanda reporting that it was definitely heroin in Steve's system. The thing that bothered Mark the most was that Amanda had reported that Steve was most likely given eight to ten bags, if not more, a day. More than enough to get him hooked on the drug and put Steve through painful withdrawals.

Cheryl hated this waiting. All she wanted to do was get out there and get Torres and his lawyer for what they did to Steve. She knew that she didn't have much time to get the proof she needed. Still once everything settled down here, she would make them pay for what they had done.

She heard the door to Steve's room open and close. All eyes were on Amanda and Jesse as they walked into the living room.

"How's Steve doing?" Mark asked.

"He's sleeping now," Jesse said. "I gave him a sedative to help him sleep."

"Is that a good idea, giving him more drugs?" Cheryl asked.

"It's not going to hurt him," Amanda answered. "He'll probably sleep for the rest of the night, just continue to watch him. He still doesn't need a hospital, but if his withdrawals get bad enough, he's going to need to be transported to one as quickly as possible."

Before Mark could say anything, Jesse spoke up. "We will."

"I still have some work to get done at the hospital," Amanda said. "I'll come back when I'm done."

"Thanks, Amanda," Mark said.

After Amanda left, the three of them stood quietly, each lost in thoughts of worry and pain.

Cheryl broke the silence. "I need to get back to the office.

She started to walk towards the door, and Mark followed.

Turning to face Mark once she reached the door. "You going to be okay here alone?" she asked him.

"We'll be fine."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Cheryl said. "After Amanda comes back, don't let anyone in, and lock the door behind me. I'll use the key when I come back."

Cheryl walked out of the house and Mark locked the door once she was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**PART 10:**

Goodwin sat in a booth at the far end of the restaurant. It was quiet, the lunch rush was over, and he was grateful for that. He didn't want anyone overhearing what was about to go down. He saw the gentleman he was meeting walk in and he smiled.

Jonathan Gaines began looking around. Once he spotted Goodwin, he made his way to the back. Arriving at the table, he quickly sat down opposite from him.

Gaines looked around once more before setting his eyes on Goodwin. "What do you want from me?"

"I need a favor?"

"What kind of favor?" Gaines asked suspiciously.

"I need you to find out where they're holding Lieutenant Steve Sloan."

"I can't do that."

"Look, you told me that if I made it worth your while, you would give me information that I need to know," Goodwin reminded him. "I'm ready to offer you a large sum of money for this information."

"I could lose my badge for this," Gaines protested nervously.

"With the money I'm offering you," Goodwin said," you'll be able to retire and not have to worry about losing your badge."

"How much?"

"A hundred thousand now," Goodwin said. "And a lot more when you deliver the information."

Gaines rubbed his face with his hand. "How much more?"

"You can name your price once you deliver the information. And my client will pay you."

"Okay, I'll see what I can find out. It probably won't be easy, but give me until the end of the day."

Goodwin handed Gaines one of his business cards and a piece of paper. "Here's my cell phone number. Call me as soon as you find out anything."

"And what's this?" Gaines asked holding up the piece of paper.

"Those are names of two doctors you can watch," Goodwin explained. "If you can't find out anything through the police station."

Gaines looked at the paper.

Goodwin stood up. "You're making the right choice here," he said. "You're going to be a rich man." Goodwin walked away from the table.

Gaines looked around the restaurant and rubbed his face once again. He couldn't believe what he had just agreed to do, but the thought of all that money made him smile.

-----------------------------------

Mark stepped quietly into the room that held his son. The only light that came into the room was from the open doorway where he stood. As he grew accustomed to the darkness, his eyes caught the sight of his son's sleeping form. He walked slowly over to the bed and looked down at Steve. Even in his sleep, Steve's body still shook. Mark grabbed the quilt from the bottom of the bed and placed it over his son, but he still continued to shake. Mark sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Steve and felt overwhelmed with pain and sadness. He reached over to brush some stray hairs away from his son's forehead; his hand was covered in sweat when he pulled it away.

Tears formed in Mark's eyes as he continued to watch his son sleep.

"Why did they do this to you, Steve?" he asked in a whisper. "You'll get through this, I know you will. Just let us help you. Don't push us away."

Steve suddenly jerked in his sleep and moaned, but remained asleep. His body seemed to shake even more after that. Mark pulled up the quilt to his son's chin.

"It's all right, Steve," he whispered, putting his hand against the sweaty forehead. "You're going to be all right."

_I'll kill those bastards if I get the chance, _Mark thought to himself as he continued to watch his son. _I'll kill them._

------------------------------

Gaines walked into the squad room, his eyes searching for Cheryl. He spotted her in Newman's office. He made his way over to her desk to wait for her to come out. No sooner did he reach her desk, than Cheryl walked out of Newman's office and over to where Gaines stood.

"Lieutenant Banks," he began. "My name is Jonathan Gaines. Officer Jonathan Gaines."

Sitting down at her desk, she didn't look at him. "How can I help you, Officer Gaines?"

"I've heard about Lieutenant Sloan's disappearance," he answered. "And I was just wondering if there is any news on whether he has been found or not."

Cheryl looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Why are you so interested in this?"

"Well, not only is Lieutenant Sloan a fellow officer," Gaines replied, "but I also met him at the Academy when he gave that lecture on homicide investigations."

"Oh, I see," Cheryl said.

"So, I just wanted to know if he was found or not."

"Let's just say he's safe."

"Oh thank God," Gaines said. "What hospital is he in? I would like to send him some flowers or something."

"You sure ask a lot of questions," Cheryl said, looking at him suspiciously.

"Guess that's the cop in me," Gaines said with a smile. "Some day I hope to make it to detective."

"Well, it's good to have goals," Cheryl said and stood up from her desk. "But until this case is over, no one finds out where Lieutenant Sloan is." She picked up some things on her desk, and walked away from him.

------------------------------

Goodwin sat in front of the desk in the judge's chambers nervously looking at his watch. Judge Robinson walked in and over to his desk. He sat down and looked at Goodwin.

"Where is Assistant District Attorney Ellison?" he asked.

"I don't know. I called his office and they told me she would be right down, "Goodwin said.

"Well then, we should wait," Robinson said.

"Look, Judge Robinson," Goodwin started. "Ellison went behind my back to Judge Thompson and got him to postpone this trail for seventy-two hours."

"It's my understanding that Judge Thompson has come down with the flu."

"It's very convenient that he, all of sudden, came down with the flu, isn't it, when you consider the fact that my client was supposed to be released from jail two days ago when Ellison's witness didn't show up to testify."

"Are you implying that Judge Thompson is faking his illness to keep your client in jail?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Your Honor. I want my client out of jail now as he was promised and I'm asking you to let him out."

"This isn't my case."

Goodwin opened up his brief case and took out an envelope. He slipped it across the Judge's desk toward him. "Would this help you reconsider taking this case for today?"

Robinson looked at Goodwin for a moment, then reached across his desk, took the envelope, and looked inside.

"Very well, Mr. Goodwin," he said, taking the envelope and putting it in his jacket pocket. "I see your point. I agree that your client should have been released after the witness failed to show up to testify."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Goodwin said with a smile.

Robinson took a piece of paper from his desk and signed it, handing it to Goodwin. "Here you go. You know what to do with that."

Taking the paper from the judge, Goodwin smiled. "I do, Your Honor, and again, thank you," he said, getting up from his chair and walking out.

------------------------------

Jesse walked out from the back bedroom into the living room. He heard a knock at the door and walked over, looking through the peep whole, he smiled and unlocked the door and opened it. Amanda walked into the house and turned to look at Jesse.

"How's Steve doing?"

"Still sleeping."

"What's wrong? Something happen while I wasn't here? Where's Mark?"

"No, nothing important happened," Jesse replied rubbing his neck. "I just checked on Steve and Mark is there with him…"

"And?"

"Amanda, there has to be more that we can do for him than just sit here and watch him suffer through these terrible withdrawals."

"As long as Steve knows that we're here for him, to help him through this, everything is going to be all right."

"You didn't see him after you left," Jesse told her. "He wants the damn drug, not us."

"Give it time, Jess, he'll get through this. And so will we."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," he said with a smile. "But it's not going to be easy."

"Nobody said it would be."

------------------------------

Newman saw Cheryl walk back into the squad room. Walking over to his door, he opened it.

"Banks," he yelled. "I need you in my office now."

Cheryl walked into the office. "What's going on Captain?"

"Ellison just called me," he said. "I have some bad news."

"Oh no," Cheryl said, reading the look on his face. "Don't tell me that Torres has been let out of jail. Don't tell me."

"I'm sorry, Cheryl," Newman began. "But from what Ellison told me, Goodwin went behind her back and got another judge to release Torres."

Cheryl couldn't believe what was happening. Now that Torres was out of jail she knew that he would be after Steve as soon as he hit the streets.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 11:**

Mark paced the living room floor as he talked on his cell phone. "How could she let this happen?" he asked.

"Look, Doctor Sloan, Ellison said that Goodwin did the same thing she did to him," Newman said.

"There was no way she could have stopped this?"

"She said no."

"This is great. This is just great," Mark said. "Does this mean he's going to come after Steve again?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. There's a good chance that Torres might come after Steve again, but there's also a good chance that he might not."

"You know this guy," Mark said. "What do you think he would do?"

"Honestly," Newman replied. "I think he would come after Steve."

"Jesus Christ. Is this ever going to end?"

"Look, we have the upper hand here. Torres has no idea where Steve is."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm very sure. There is no way that Torres will find out where he is," Newman said. "Look, Doctor Sloan. We are going to do everything we can over here to get Torres back in jail."

"Okay, Captain," Mark said. "Thanks for letting me know." He closed his phone and continued to pace the floor.

Amanda walked back into the house from outside. "Okay, Jesse's off to get some food," she said. "I also gave him a list of supplies to get from the hospital." She looked up and saw Mark pacing. "Mark, what's wrong?"

Mark stopped and looked at Amanda. "Torres is out of jail."

Before Amanda could say anything, a noise came from Steve's room alerting them that he was awake.

Mark was the first person to reach the room. Opening the door, he saw Steve on the floor. He was by his side in an instant.

Steve looked up at Mark, his eyes wide with fear.

"Dad, the…they are…are after me…me," he said. "The…they want to…to kill me."

"No, Steve, you're safe now. No one is going to kill you."

Steve looked nervously around the room. "I hear…hear them, the…they're outside."

"No one's outside. The only ones that are here are me and Amanda, no one else."

Steve continued to look around the room. Mark watched him closely. There were tears in his eyes, his nose was running, and he was still shaking and sweating.

"Come on, let's get you back in bed," he said, putting his hand on Steve's arm.

Steve pulled away from him. "No…no I need…need some more of…of that drug."

Mark closing his eyes for a moment, looked at Steve again. "No Steve, you don't need it."

"Yes…yes I…I do," Steve pleaded with him. "Please…please, dad, I…I need to…to make this…this pain go…go away."

"Give it time, Steve, the pain will go away."

"Why…why is it…it so cold?" Steve asked, wrapping his arms around his upper body.

Mark pulled the quilt off the bed and wrapped it around him. "Better?"

"It's…it's so…so cold."

At that moment, Amanda walked in with another blanket, knelt down on the other side of Steve, and wrapped it around him.

Amanda watched as Steve began to shake even more. "Steve?"

"Oh God," Steve said, moving forward while throwing the blanket and quilt off of himself.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Mark asked.

Steve was on his hands and knees. "I'm going to be sick." Before he could say another word, he began throwing up.

Mark placed one hand on his son's back and the other on his forehead, giving him some support as he continued to vomit.

"It's going to be all right, Steve," he said. "It's going to be all right." He looked up at Amanda. "Go get me a wet towel."

Amanda got up off the floor and walked into the bathroom.

Steve continued to get sick until finally he had emptied whatever was in his stomach and his body was being racked with dry heaves.

Amanda returned with a soaked washcloth and handed it to Mark, who placed it on Steve's forehead.

As soon as it began, it stopped. Steve tried to sit back but collapsed against his father.

Amanda knelt down next to Steve again. She saw that his eyes were closed and his breathing was rapid. "Let's get him onto the bed."

Mark and Amanda picked Steve up and placed him on the bed. Taking the quilt and the blanket from the floor, Mark put them over his child.

Amanda walked into the bathroom. Coming back out with a bunch of towels, she went to clean up the mess Steve just made.

"I'll do that, Amanda," Mark said, looking at her.

"It's no problem, Mark."

"Please, Amanda, I need to be alone with my son."

Amanda placed the towels on the floor. "Sure, I'll see you in a while." She turned and walked out of the room

Mark watched his child start to fall asleep. "Dear God, I know I've asked you for a lot. And I need to ask you again for your help." Tears filled his eyes. "Please, just help my son get through this, give him the strength to kick this. And please just bring back the son I know."

He saw that Steve had finally fallen back asleep. Taking a deep breath, he wiped the tears from his eyes and went to the floor to clean up the mess his son left there only moments before.

--------------------------------

Jesse walked out of the hospital and headed towards his car.

Gaines sat in his patrol car and watched him.

Jesse got into the car and turned the key. Before he could pull out, Gaines blocked him in.

_Oh great!_ Jesse though to himself. _Now what?_

Gaines approached the drivers' side door as Jesse rolled down his window.

"How can I help you officer?" he asked.

"Drive's license and registration," Gaines ordered.

"Can I ask what this is all about?" Jesse asked as he pulled out his license and registration for the officer. 

"Just hand over your driver's license and registration please," Gaines repeated.

Jesse handed the items to Gaines and just sighed.

"I'm sorry Doctor Travis," Gaines said handing him back his things.

"Can I now ask what this was all about?" Jesse asked.

"You fit the description of a rape suspect we are looking for," Gaines lied. "Sorry to have bothered you."

"Hope you find your man," Jesse said.

Gaines went back to his patrol car and moved it so that Jesse could leave. Once Jesse was a safe distance away, Gaines proceeded to follow him.

--------------------------------------------

Torres drew a deep breath once he stepped out of his limo. "Ah, it's nice to be able to breathe fresh air again," he told his attorney.

"I'm sure it is," Goodwin said dryly. "But we have other matters to attend to right now."

"Hey, when I'm ready to go inside, I'll go inside." He took another deep breath as Goodwin stood there and watched him. "Tell me you have more good news for me, Michael?"

"I'm still waiting to hear from Gaines about Sloan's whereabouts."

"When are you supposed to hear from him?"

"He said he would get back to me by the end of the day, but so far I haven't heard anything."

"I hope you didn't screw up again, Michael, and picked the wrong cop for this."

"Trust me, I didn't."

Goodwin's cell phone rang. He quickly took it out of his jacket and flipped it open. "Yes."

"It's me," he heard Gaines' voice come over the phone.

"What do you have for me?" Goodwin asked.

"I'm tailing a Doctor Jesse Travis right now," he said. "I'll meet you at Torres' office once I see where he goes."

The phone went dead. Goodwin flipped it closed and looked at Torres.

"What was that all about?" Torres asked.

"That was the cop I told you about. He's tailing one of the doctors and will meet us at your office once he sees where the house is."

"Oh, my life is starting to get better and better by the minute," Torres said with a satisfied smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**PART 12:**

Gaines pulled his car across the street from the safe house. He watched Jesse get out of his car and walk to the front door. Once he saw Amanda open the door, he knew he had the right house and he drove off.

"What took you so long? Did you get everything we need?" Amanda asked as Jesse walked into the living room.

"Had a hard time finding some of the things Mark wanted. So I didn't get to the store," Jesse explained as he placed box on the coffee table. "Where is Mark?"

"He's sitting with Steve."

"Amanda, what's wrong?" Jesse asked as he walked over to her.

"Torres was let out of jail today," she told him.

"What?! How did this happen?" Jesse asked in disbelief.

"I don't know," Amanda replied.

"How's Mark taking the news?" Jesse asked.

"How do you think he's taking it?" Amanda answered.

"Well at least Torres has no idea where Steve is."

Amanda walked over to the window and looked out. "I just hope it stays that way."

--------------------------------------------------

"That's right," Gaines said. He sat facing Goodwin and Torres. "That's the address to the safe house they have Sloan at."

"You did good there, Gaines," Torres said.

"When do I get my money?"

"Oh yes, your money. It's right here." Torres got up and walked over to his desk. He opened the drawer, pulled out an envelope, and threw it at Gaines.

Gaines began counting the money; he looked up at Torres. "This isn't all of it."

"Once we get to the safe house and see that it's the right one," Torres said, "you'll get the rest of your money."

Gaines stood and pointed at Torres. "I was told I was going to get all the money now, and more."

"You will get it, I just want to make sure the information you gave us warrants the rest of the money," Torres said.

Gaines looked at Goodwin and then Torres. "I'll be waiting for the rest of my money." He glanced back at Goodwin. "You know where to get in touch with me. And if I don't get it by tomorrow, I'll make sure my captain knows of your little plan."

With that Gaines turned and walked out of the room.

No sooner did Gaines leave the room, then Franklin and Jackson walked in.

"Follow him and take care of him," Torres said.

"What do you want us to do with the body?" Jackson asked.

"I don't care what you do with the body. Just get rid of him."

"Yes, sir."

The two men walked out of the office. Torres sat down in his chair and grabbed a cigar.

"You don't have to kill him," Goodwin said.

"You heard him, Michael," Torres said. "He'll go to his captain and tell him what we have planned."

"That's if he doesn't get the money."

"Look, from now on we're going to do things my way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah."

Torres took the cigar and placed it in his mouth, sitting back in his chair and lighting it. "And by tomorrow Lieutenant Steve Sloan will be dead." He took a puff of the cigar and started to laugh.

--------------------------------------------------

Steve awoke with a start, quickly sitting up in his bed and immediately regretting that he did as his whole body screamed out in pain. He looked around the dark room and noticed that he was alone, but where he was he didn't know.

Was he still in that house, with those men?

No the room looked different from the other one. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs away and try and remember what happened. The last thing he remembered was being sick and hearing his father's voice.

Steve threw back the covers that were covering him. Too hot.

Getting up from the bed he walked over to the door. He turned the doorknob. This is definitely not the same room. The other door was always locked.

Opening the door slowly, Steve peered into the hallway, still not knowing where he was. He didn't want to take any chances. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he stepped out into the hallway. He heard a voice coming from the other room. Looking around to make sure that no one was around, he made his way to the end of the hallway. Stopping and slowly looking around the corner, he spotted his father standing in the middle of the living room on the phone.

"No, Carol…Stay there…there's nothing you can do here," Mark said. "He's doing as well as can be excepted for what he's been through…No, not at all…I know, honey…I wish this whole thing never happened."

_I wish this never happened either,_ Steve thought to himself.

Suddenly a wave of dizziness came over him, his stomach started to hurt and he felt as if he was going to be sick again. Hitting the wall with a loud thud, Steve moaned in pain. "Steve?" he heard his father's voice calling out to him.

"Carol, I'll call you back; I think Steve is awake….Love you too."

Mark walked into the hallway just in time to see Steve slide down the wall to the floor. He rushed over to his son's side. "Steve, what's wrong?"

"I…I think I…I'm going to be…be sick again," Steve managed to get out between clenched teeth.

"Come on," Mark said, trying to help Steve to a standing position. "Let's get you back into the bedroom."

"No…no I do…don't want to go…go back there," Steve pleaded.

"Steve."

"I…I said no!" He closed his eyes as the waves of dizziness and nausea continued to assault him. He didn't notice his father had gone and returned with a glass of water.

"Here you go, Steve," he offered. "Here's some water."

"I…I don't want…want any."

"Just try and drink a little."

Steve felt his anger begin to build. Before he could stop himself, he knocked the glass out of his father's hand. "I…I told you…you I did…didn't want any."

Steve opened his eyes to see the shocked look on his father's face from his sudden outburst. "I…I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No, that's okay," Mark said.

"No…no it's not…not okay," Steve said with tears in his eyes. "I…I shouldn't have…have gotten angry with…with you." He buried his face in his arms, and began to cry.

"Oh, Steve." Mark reached for his son to take him into his embrace.

"No…no just…just leave me alone," Steve pleaded, moving away from his father. "Go…go home you…you should…shouldn't be here."

"I want to be here," Mark said.

"No…no I…I don't want…want you seeing me…me like this," Steve said still not looking at his father. "Please…please just go…go away."

Mark grabbed Steve and pulled him into his arms.

Trying to pull away from his father's embrace, he said, "I…I said leave…leave me alone."

"No, I'm not going to leave you," Mark said, firmly tightening his embrace around his son. With tears in his eyes, he said, "Don't push me away, Steve, please don't push me away."

Steve stopped fighting his father; he wrapped his arms around him as he burst into tears.

"I'm here for you, Steve," Mark whispered. "I'm always here for you."


	13. Chapter 13

**PART 13:**

Ellison was busy going through files on her desk when the knock came at her door. "Come in."

Cheryl and Captain Newman walked into the office and over to her desk. Looking up, Ellison sat back in her chair and sighed.

"I looked over everything," she said. "And right now there is nothing that can be done to get Torres back into jail."

"There has to be something," Cheryl said.

Ellison just shook her head no. "I wish there was, Lieutenant, but now that Torres is out of jail it's not going to be easy to get him back in."

"What about the trial?" Newman asked. "The trial isn't over?"

"I'm waiting to hear from Judge Thompson about that."

"How could another judge just do what he did and let Torres out of jail?" Cheryl asked.

"The judge in question was Judge Robinson," Ellison explained. "He's known to be on the take. Only problem is we haven't been able to catch him in the act of taking the money."

"So Goodwin probably paid him off to get Torres out of jail," Cheryl said in disgust.

"Most likely, but there is no way to prove it."

"Of course not," Cheryl said.

"Look, I'm going to find a way to get Torres back in jail," Ellison said.

"I'm sure you will," Cheryl said. "I just hope that it doesn't take him getting to Steve before you do."

"How is Steve doing?"

"Doctor Sloan told us that he's hanging in there," Newman said.

Ellison's secretary knocked gently on the door and then stuck her head in.

"Ms. Ellison," she said, "there's a Judge Thompson on the phone for you."

"Thanks, Karen." She picked up the phone. "Judge Thompson…Yes, sir…I know…What?...You can't do that…But…No…Yes, Your Honor…Thank you."

"What was that all about?" Newman asked.

"Judge Thompson has officially declared the case against Torres a mistrial."

"What!" Cheryl said. "He can't do that."

"He can, and he did."

"Now what?" Newman asked.

"I'm going to work on an appeal," Ellison said. "It's the only way I'll be able to re-open this case."

Cheryl looked down at her watch. "You'll keep us posted about what's going on?"

"As long as you keep me posted," Ellison said.

"We will."

Newman and Cheryl walked out of the office as Ellison went back to looking over her files.

---------------------------------------------

Goodwin paced back and forth in front of Torres' desk. He went over to the bar to pour himself another drink.

"You know you drink too much," Torres said.

"I still say you shouldn't have killed that cop."

"Look, I already told you why I did that."

Goodwin took a long sip from his glass. He stared at Torres. "You didn't have to. What if the cops connect us to this?"

"It's not going to happen. Now will you just relax. By tomorrow this whole thing is going to be over."

"I think we should wait to go after Sloan."

"And why is that?"

"Once the police find Gaines' body, they're going to be all over us."

"Boy, you sure are paranoid, aren't you?"

"Look, I'm just being realistic here," Goodwin said. He took another long sigh of his drink. "Lieutenant Banks is going to be all over this. She would love nothing more than to prove it was us who killed that cop."

"And she would love nothing more than to prove that it was us who drugged her partner, but that's not going to happen," Torres said. "There's nothing leading back to us. Once Sloan is dead, we're home free."

"We should just leave this place and go somewhere else," Goodwin suggested.

"Leave Los Angeles? No, Los Angeles is my city. It took me years to make it mine, and I'm not about to give it up. I have some very rich customers who are willing to give me a whole lot of money to support their habits."

"So, you can take over another city somewhere else."

"This discussion is over, Goodwin," Torres said as he rose from his chair. "We take care of Sloan tomorrow." He walked over to Goodwin and patted him on the face. "Trust me, once this is all taken care of, it will be business as usual." Torres laughed and walked out of the room.

Goodwin looked around nervously, taking another sip of his drink. He placed the glass on top of the desk and headed out of the room.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve paced the living room floor of the safe house. His father sat on the couch and watched him.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep," Mark suggested.

"I…I can't," Steve replied nervously.

"At least lie down and try."

"I said I…I can't! I…I'm not tired."

Steve sat down on a chair. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and rocked back and forth.

"I can't take this…this anymore."

Mark walked over to his son and put his hand on his shoulder. "You're going to get through this, Steve, just give it some time."

"I…I want the…the pain to…to go away."

Mark felt his son's body start to shake.

Steve looked up at his father. "Please…please, Dad, go…go find that…that guy with…with the drug. I…I need it."

"No, you don't need it," Mark said firmly.

Steve pushed his father's hand from his shoulder and got up, almost falling back into the chair as dizziness overtook him. Mark caught him before he could fall. "Leave…leave me…me alone," Steve said, once again pushing his father away. Steve stumbled farther into the living room, falling to his knees as the dry heaves began to rack his body. Mark knelt next to his son to help him.

"I…I'm sorry," Steve said between ragged breaths.

"It's okay Steve. It's okay."

Steve stopped. He fell to his side and wrapped his arms around his stomach, violently shaking. "It's so…so cold."

Mark grabbed a blanket off the couch and covered his son with it.

Steve looked into his father's tear-filled eyes. "Please…please help me."

"I am, Steve," Mark whispered. "I am."

------------------------------------------------------

Jesse pushed a cart as he followed Amanda through the supermarket.

"I still can't believe you didn't get any food while you were out," Amanda said.

"I told you," Jesse explained. "I had a hard time finding the things Mark wanted."

"Ahuh," Amanda said with a smile. "Which nurse was it?"

"Nurse Blackburn," Jesse started. He looked at Amanda and smiled. "Okay, you got me. I was already running late, so I didn't want to be any later than I was."

"Well let's get this shopping done."

Jesse stopped walking and Amanda turned around to look at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing for Steve?"

"Well Mark thinks…" Amanda began.

"No," Jesse interrupted her. "I want to know what you think."

"I don't know," Amanda replied. "I want to think we're doing the right thing."

They started walking once more.

"Why are you asking me about this Jesse?"

"You see how hard of a time Steve is having with this," Jesse answered. "We're doctors and we should be able to give him something to lessen the pain."

"Yeah, but to take those kind of medications out of the hospital," Amanda said. "We could not only lose our jobs, but our license and maybe even go to jail."

"I know, he would have to be medically monitored," Jesse said. "And that would mean bringing him to the hospital."

"And that's out of the question."

Jesse continued to walk and Amanda stopped in front of a candy display.

Jesse turned to see what Amanda was doing. "Having a craving for chocolate?"

"No," Amanda said as Jesse walked over to her. "I was thinking of Steve."

"Steve?"

"I haven't done much research on this, but when a person does drugs or alcohol, the contents usually turn to sugar. So if an addicted person eats candy, it's like them getting the same effect as when they were drinking or drugging."

"So instead of getting a high from the heroin, we just let him get a sugar rush and it's the same thing?" Jesse asked.

"I know it's weird, and like I said before I haven't done much research on this," Amanda told him. "But it couldn't hurt to try."

"If it will help Steve," Jesse said. "Let's do it."

Amanda grabbed a bunch of candy bars and placed them in the cart. Her and Jesse walked away to continue their shopping.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Torres walked into his office to find Goodwin sitting in a chair, fidgeting nervously. Walking over to his desk, he looked at Goodwin. "I thought you would have gone home by now. Get rested up for tomorrow."

"I've been thinking," Goodwin said.

"Whoa! Watch out, that could be dangerous," Torres said with a smirk, sitting down in his chair.

"How are we going to kill Sloan?" Goodwin asked.

"We're sticking to the original plan. Shoot him up with heroin."

"Wouldn't we want this to look like an accident?"

"Oh, it going to be an accident, believe me. Sloan's going to give himself the shot."

"Oh sure, I'm sure that he's going to do that," Goodwin said dryly.

"Look it's been a day since Sloan had his last shot. He's probably dying for the next one, so trust me, it's not going to be hard to get him to do this."

Goodwin looked away from Torres.

"Are you having second thoughts about this, Goodwin?"

"No, no, not at all."

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"I hate the killing and you know it."

"Now all of a sudden you hate the killing. You didn't have a problem with the idea of killing Sloan in the first place."

"That was just Sloan," Goodwin said. "Now we've killed another cop. How many more people do we have to kill, Torres?"

"As many people as it will take for us to get to Sloan."


	14. Chapter 14

**PART 14:**

Steve lay on the couch, his father sat next to him.

Steve threw the blanket off himself. "It…it's too damn hot…hot in here," he said, standing slowly from the couch.

"Where are you going, Steve?"

"Do….don't worry, Dad, I…I'm not go…going anywhere," Steve said sarcastically. "I'm just…just too hot…hot under that…that blanket."

At that moment the door opened and Jesse and Amanda walked in. Amanda saw Steve standing near the desk and walked over to him. She noticed once again he was still shaking and sweating. "Steve, how are you doing?"

"Just peachy." He walked away from her.

"Oh-kay," she said and turned toward the rest of them. "Do I dare ask what happened while we were gone?"

"Just more of the same," Mark answered her.

Amanda sighed and decided to try again with Steve. She carefully approached him again. "I got you something from the store," she said with a smile.

"What…what's that?"

Amanda held up the bag she was holding. "Some candy."

Steve quickly snatched the bag out of Amanda's hand, went over to the couch and sat down. Amanda turned and looked at Steve as he tore open one of the candy bars and began to devour it.

"You're welcome," she said.

Amanda walked up to Jesse and Mark.

"So what did Newman have to say?" Jesse asked.

"Torres is definitely out of jail. Where he is," Mark said. "They don't know."

"Shouldn't we get Steve out of here then just in case?" Amanda asked.

"There's no need."

"There's no need?" Jesse questioned. "You don't know that."

"Jesse," Amanda said.

"No," Jesse interrupted her. "What, are we going to stay here and let Steve be a sitting duck for this man?"

"Captain Newman put an unmarked car outside to guard the house," Mark said.

"I don't like this one bit," Jesse said.

"I don't like it either," Mark agreed. "But Newman said we have no choice but to wait for Torres to make the next move."

------------------------------

Hours passed. Amanda finally convinced Mark to get some rest and sent him to one of the bedrooms in back. Steve sat at the table in the dinning room as Jesse slept in the chair. Amanda watched him; he was searching through the bag for more candy. She walked over to him.

"You…you have any…any more candy?"

"What was in there is all I had."

Steve threw the bag aside, and began to search through the wrappers that littered the table.

Amanda grabbed his hands and stopped him. "Steve, there's no more. Stop it."

Steve go up and started to pace the floor. "Well then go…go get some."

"The stores are closed now, Steve. You're going to have to wait."

"Come on…on Amanda, there…there are stores…stores opened twenty-four hours."

"I'm not going, Steve."

"Fine!" He turned his back to her.

"Steve."

"Go…go away."

"No, you listen to me," she said grabbing his arm and turning him to face her.

"Amanda, you…you can get…get me something from…from the hospital."

"No, Steve."

"Come on Amanda," Steve pleaded. "No one has to know."

"Oh sure," Amanda said. "I'll go get something right now and jeopardize my career just for you."

"I…I would do…do the same…same thing for…for you," he said.

"Oh, don't even try and lay the guilt trip on me, Steven," she told him. "You wouldn't do this for me and you know you wouldn't."

"Do…do you have…have any idea how…how much pain…pain I…I'm in?"

"Steve, it will pass, you just have to get through this part and everything will be fine."

"I can't…can't do it…it Amanda," he pleaded. "I…I'm trying but…but the need…need is…is so much…much greater."

"That's why we're here," Amanda said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Your dad, me and Jesse, we're all here to help you through this."

Steve closed his eyes as the tears started to come again.

"Don't shut us out, Steve, I know that we must look like the bad guys right now, but we aren't."

"I…I know," Steve said with a shaky voice. "Amanda, I…I'm just so afraid that…that they're going…going to get…get me."

"No, they won't. We won't let them."

"Torres is…is going to…to find out…out where I…I am. He…He's going to come…come after me."

"Steve, you have to trust me," Amanda said. "We won't let them do anything to you ever again."

"I…I trust you," he said. "I…I just don't…don't trust myself."

Amanda silently hugged Steve, who wrapped his arms around her.

-------------------------------

The night continued to pass slowly. Amanda sat on the couch as Steve paced the living room floor once again. Jesse remained in the chair, asleep.

"Why don't you sit down for a while, Steve?"

"Can't….can't," Steve replied.

"You want to try and lie down, see if you can get some sleep?"

"No…no."

Steve walked over t the window and looked out. Dropping the curtain back in place, he went back to pacing the floor. Amanda watched Steve as over and over again he went to the window, looked out, and then returned to pacing the floor.

"Steve, the only one out there is the unmarked police car."

Steve glanced at Amanda, looked one last time out the window, and began pacing again.

"I…I hate this!" Steve yelled.

Jesse jerked awake from the sudden outburst. Rubbing his tired eyes, he looked at Steve.

"I hate…hate the way I…I feel," Steve continued. "I…I hate being…being cooped up…up in this…this house."

"It's going to be over soon, Steve," Jesse said.

Steve sat on the couch beside Amanda. He started to shake again. Amanda grabbed the blanket and put it around him.

"I…I'm sorry, Amanda," he said quietly. "Just…just when I think…think the…the shaking has…has stopped, it…it starts up…up all over…over again."

Suddenly Steve moaned in pain, grabbing his stomach as he fell against Amanda, who wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Steve," she whispered. "I'm sorry for not being able to do more for you."


	15. Chapter 15

**PART 15**

Goodwin turned on the light in Torres' office. Looking around, he picked up the phone and began to dial a number. Bringing the receiver up to his ear, he said, "Yes, I would like to speak to Lieutenant Cheryl Banks. What do you mean she isn't there?" Goodwin asked. "I need to speak with her. This is very important."

The door to the office opened. He quickly hung up the phone and looked up to see Torres standing in the doorway.

"I thought you went to bed," Goodwin said nervously.

"Who were you on the phone with?"

"I was just calling my office."

Torres walked farther into the room and over to the desk where Goodwin stood.

"A little late to be calling the office, isn't it?"

"I haven't checked in all day, I do have other clients you know."

"Ahuh."

"Look, I'm turning in for the night," Goodwin said, walking out of the office.

Torres picked up the phone and hit the re-dial button. He waited while the phone rang.

"Los Angeles Police Department," he heard the voice at the other end say.

Torres hung up the phone and looked up at the door. "Calling your office, huh?" he said.

-------------------------------

Mark walked into the living room; he saw that Jesse was asleep in the chair once again. Looking over at the couch, he saw Amanda sitting with Steve's head in her lap. He was shaking violently. "Steve?" Mark said, walking over to the couch and kneeling down to gaze at this son. "Steve?"

Steve opened his eyes and looked at his father; without saying a word he closed them again. The shaking continued to tear through his body.

"How long has he been like this?" Mark asked, looking up at Amanda.

"For about," Amanda looked at her watch, "twenty minutes."

Steve tried to sit up, but Mark pushed him back down.

"No…no, going to be…be sick," Steve protested.

Mark helped his son up. As they headed toward the bathroom, Steve collapsed in the hallway. He began throwing up violently where he had fallen.

"Oh God," Steve cried out between retching. He emptied his stomach until once again dry heaves racked his already shaking body. "I…I'm so…so sorry," Steve said as he began to cry.

"There's no need for you to be sorry, son," Mark said. "This isn't your fault, you didn't do this."

Steve sat up; using the wall for support, he leaned against it.

"You…you must be…be so disappointed in…in me," Steve sobbed and turned away from his father.

Mark's heart broke for his son.

"My God, Son. Did I say I was disappointed in you?" Mark asked, looking at Steve. "Look at me, Steve."

Steve opened his eyes and looked at his father.

"Did I ever tell you that I was disappointed in you?"

Steve shook his head no.

"And I never will. You know I am always here to help you no matter what happens."

Steve swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. Not trusting his voice, he continued to stare at his father.

"That's what parents do, Steve, help their children."

"Even if…if that child is…is an adu…adult and can…can't help himself?" Steve asked quietly.

Mark put his hand on Steve's cheek and smiled. "Even if that child is an adult. That is, of course if that child wants the father's help."

Steve smiled a little. "Yeah, he does."

Mark hugged Steve and Steve returned the gesture, leaning back against the wall. "You want to help this child of yours into bed?" Steve asked. "I'm wiped and would like to try and get some sleep."

"You got it," Mark said. He got to his feet and helped Steve off the floor.

-----------------------------------

Amanda stared out the window as Mark walked into the living room. She turned to face him.

"How's Steve?"

"He's sleeping."

"Why don't you get some sleep yourself," Amanda suggested. "You look like you can use it."

"Speak for yourself," Mark said with a laugh. "I'll be fine. I want to be awake in case Steve needs me."

"I'm not tired. I'll stay up and watch Steve for you."

"No, that's okay. I'm not tired either."

"You're just as stubborn as your son."

Mark smiled. "Where do you think he gets it from?"

"Why don't you both get some sleep and I'll watch Steve," Jesse's voice came from the chair.

Amanda and Mark looked over at Jesse getting out of the chair.

"I'll be fine, Jesse," Amanda said.

"I didn't ask if you were fine, Amanda," Jesse said, walking over to them. "You look exhausted."

Amanda opened her mouth to protest.

"Go," Jesse interrupted her. He pointed to the hallway. "There's another bedroom back there. I suggest you use it."

"Okay, okay I'll go," Amanda protested. "If anything happens."

"I know. I'll come get you."

Amanda walked over of the living room and toward the hallway.

"That goes for you, too," Jesse told Mark. "Steve's going to need you in the morning and I don't think you're going to be doing him any good without any sleep. I'll get you if he wakes up."

"Thanks, Jesse," Mark said and walked out of the room.

Jesse walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back, checking to see that the unmarked car was still out front. Rubbing his weary eyes, he took another look out the window, he finally walked away, sat down in the chair, and relaxed enough to begin reading a magazine.

---------------------------------

_"You'll feel a little pin prick and then the most wonderful feeling of euphoria you will ever experience," he heard the voice say._

_ The needle moved closer to his arm; Steve cried out in pain as it stuck into his arm. "Oh God, please make them stop. No more. I can't take it; please help me."_

_ Laughter came from the darkness. Steve turned around unable to see the person who laughed at him._

_ "Where are you?" The laughter crew louder and louder. Steve covered his ears to block out the sound, but it continued to get louder._

_ "This won't hurt a bit," he heard the voice say over and over again. Needles seemed to be coming in and out of his vision._

_ "No!" Steve tried to get away from the voice and the needles, but he just kept running into walls. Everywhere he turned there was another wall. Turning to face the sound of the voice, he leaned against one of the walls, covering his ears._

_ "It won't hurt, it won't hurt, it won't hurt," the voice kept repeating over and over again. Needles continued to come at Steve as he covered his head and sank to the floor._

_ "You're going to die, Sloan," the voice said. "You're going to die…"_

_ Steve saw thousands of needles coming toward him from out of the darkness. He buried his head in his arms and waited._

--------------------------------

"NO!!" Steve cried out, sitting up in his bed. Gasping for breath and covered in sweat, he looked around the room.

Jesse was the first one to reach him. Amanda wasn't for behind, and Mark was right behind her.

Jesse rushed over to the bed.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Jesse asked, a concerned look on his face.

Steve looked wildly around the room. He was completely disoriented, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing Jesse reach out for him, Steve saw what he thought was a needle in Jesse's hand.

"NO!!!" Steve yelled. "Get…get away from…from me."

"Steve," Jesse said, reaching out to calm him.

Steve's response was quick and immediate. He punched Jesse in the face, sending him falling to the floor. Amanda was at Jesse's side in an instant. Steve fell out of the bed and stumbled over to the nearest wall.

Making his way over to his son, Mark said. "Steve."

"No! Stay…stay away from…from me," Steve yelled. "I…I don't want…want anymore, please…please don't hurt…hurt me anymore."

"We're not here to hurt you son."

"I…I said stay…stay away," Steve pleaded.

"Steve, you were dreaming," Mark said, inching his way toward his son. "It was only a dream; no one here wants to hurt you."

Mark reached his son. Steve struck out with his right hand and made contact with Mark's jaw.

Taken off balance, Mark landed on the floor. He looked up at his son with tears in his eyes.

"I…I'm not going to…to let you…you kill me!" Steve shrieked.

"Come on, Steve," Amanda said gently. "You had a dream, that's all. We aren't going to kill you."

Steve looked around the room; he started to recognize where he was. "Amanda?"

"I'm right here," she said with a smile.

Looking at his father and Jesse, he saw them both wiping blood away from their lips. "Oh God, did…did I do…do that?"

"You were dreaming," Mark said, walking up to him. "You didn't know what was going on."

"Come on, Steve," Jesse said. "Let's get you back into bed."

"No…no I can…can't go back…back to sleep. I…I don't want…want to dream again."

"How about I stay with you until you fall asleep," Mark suggested.

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

Mark helped Steve back over to his bed. Jesse and Amanda left the room. Closing the door, Amanda watched Mark pull the covers over Steve and then sit on the edge of the bed.


	16. Chapter 16

**PART 16**

Amanda opened her eyes to the sun shining through the big picture window in the living room. She got up slowly, her body crying out in protest from the way she had slept. Stretching her muscles, she looked around the room, and saw Jesse asleep in a chair.

She heard the door to Steve's room open and shut. She started to walk over to the hallway, only to be greeted by Mark.

"Morning," she whispered.

"Good morning."

"How's he doing?"

"Still sleeping. I think he's going to sleep for awhile longer."

"Good," Amanda said with a smile. "Did he fall asleep right away after we left the room?"

"Went out like a baby."

The sound of the door being unlocked made Amanda and Mark look. Captain Newman and Cheryl walked in and over to them. Jesse got up from the chair and joined them.

"How's Steve doing?" Cheryl asked.

"He's doing okay," Amanda answered.

"What are you doing to do about Torres?" Mark asked, his expression turning serious.

"There's nothing we can do," Newman said. "We have to wait for him to make his next move."

"You mean to tell me that we have to wait for him to make his move on Steve?"

Newman glanced at Cheryl, and then back at Mark.

"That look says it all," Mark said angrily. "You don't have to answer the question."

Mark walked over to the window. Cheryl flashed Newman a look, and walked after Mark.

"Look, Doctor Sloan," Cheryl began.

"No, I don't want to hear it," Mark interrupted. "You're going to let Torres get to Steve just so you can arrest him, aren't you?"

"No, we won't let Torres get near Steve at all," Cheryl started to explain. "We just need to catch him in the act of trying to get to him."

"And what happens if you don't get to him and he gets to Steve first?"

Cheryl was trying to think up an answer to his question when Newman walked up to them again.

"You see, you can't answer the question, because you're not even sure yourselves if you can prevent that from happening."

"We'll have plenty of back up here," Newman said. "Nothing will happen to Steve."

"I don't like this," Mark told them.

"We don't like it either," Cheryl said. "But we have no other choice."

"Don't you think we tried to consider other choices?" Newman asked.

"Can't you move Steve to another safe house?"

"This is the only safe house we have at this moment," Newman told him.

"We wouldn't put Steve's life in danger," Cheryl said.

"I'm just so afraid for him, Cheryl," Mark said.

"I know," she said. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid either. I am."

Mark looked at her.

"We're going to get Torres," she said. "And Steve's going to be fine."

"I hope so, Cheryl," he said. "Dear God, I hope so."

-------------------------------

Goodwin woke up to the sound of his bedroom door crashing in. He immediately sat up in bed, and saw Jackson and Franklin standing there.

"What the hell are you doing?" Goodwin asked angrily.

"Get dressed," Jackson said. "Torres wants to see you now."

"What the hell does he want now?"

"Don't know, he just told us to come get you."

"Some way of getting a person," Goodwin said sarcastically. "You could have knocked, you know." He put on his robe and turned to see Jackson and Franklin still standing there. "Tell him I'll be there when I'm ready."

Goodwin headed toward the bathroom. Jackson and Franklin came up behind him and grabbed his arms.

"Hey!" Goodwin yelled.

"He said right now," Jackson reminded him.

"Okay, okay. Take your goddamn hands off of me."

Jackson and Franklin let him go and stood there waiting.

"Can I at least go to the bathroom first?" Goodwin asked.

"Just don't take too long."

Goodwin walked into the bathroom; closing the door behind him, he went over to the sink. He knew something was up with Torres, he just didn't know what yet. Opening the cabinet under the sink, he pulled out a .38. Tucking it into his pajama pants under his robe, he looked at himself in the mirror.

"Better safe than sorry," he said to himself, flushing the toilet before leaving the bathroom.

He walked out to see Jackson and Franklin waiting. "Okay, lead the way."

Jackson and Franklin turned to walk out of the room. Goodwin followed, closing the door on his way out.

-------------------------------

Torres paced back and forth in front of his desk, glancing at his watch several times.

_Where the hell are those idiots?_

A knock at the door brought him back from his thoughts. "Come in."

Jackson opened the door and Goodwin walked in followed by Franklin and Jackson. The door was shut and they both stood by it.

"What the hell is this all about?" Goodwin asked.

"Sit down."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then I'll just have to shoot you right where you stand." Torres laughed at the look on Goodwin's face. "Come on man, I'm only kidding."

"I don't find it very funny."

"Look, we have to make plans," Torres told him, walking around his desk and sitting in the chair.

"Plans?" Goodwin questioned, sitting down.

"Today is the day the Lieutenant Sloan dies," Torres said with a smirk on his face. "We have to figure out how we're going to get into that safe house to get to him."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Goodwin said nervously. "Did you have anything in particular in mind?"

"Not sure yet, thought I'd listen to your idea. You did think of something, didn't you?"

"Well, trying to go directly in will probably be no good," Goodwin began. "They might have a police officer outside watching the house."

"So you think we should get Sloan to come to us then?"

"That would probably be a better idea."

"But how do we get him to do that?" Torres asked. "I'm sure that if we call, they aren't going to let him speak to us."

"I didn't think that far ahead."

"I got a better idea. We're going to wait until it gets dark, then we go in and kill the son of a bitch."

"What about the cops outside?"

"In the dark," Torres said, "we have the edge. We can sneak up on them and take them out."

"But we don't know how many of them there are."

"I don't care!" Torres yelled. "Nobody, and I mean nobody is going to get in my way getting Sloan." He picked up a gun and pointed it at Goodwin, who quickly stood up. "And if they do, they'll get it right between the eyes."

"All right then," Goodwin said, not taking his eyes off the gun. "It's a plan. What time do we leave?"

"I'll let you know."

Jackson and Franklin moved out of the way as Goodwin opened the door and walked out.

"You want us to take care of him now?" Jackson asked.

"No. I want to wait and catch the traitor in the act."

"Do you want us to watch him?"

"Of course I do. Now go and make sure he doesn't leave here."

Jackson and Franklin walked out of the office. Torres brought the gun up and rubbed his hand over it; he just smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

**PART 17**

Steve walked out of his room and down the hallway. He heard voices coming from the living room. As he rounded the corner and walked into the living room, he saw Jesse and Amanda talking. Once Amanda saw Steve, she walked away from Jesse and over to him.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like shit, Steve replied and walked away.

"Wait a minute," she said, going after him. "What's wrong? You feel like you're going to be sick again?"

"No."

"Well, are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to guess?"

"My body aches, my head is killing me, my hands won't stop shaking, and I can't sleep anymore."

"You've been sleeping for hours, Steve, of course you can't sleep.

"No I haven't, Amanda. Once my father left the room this morning, I was up."

"Why didn't you come out here?"

"Cause I wasn't in the mood for all the questions I would be getting from everyone," he said angrily. "And I'm still not, so stop with the third degree, okay?"

"It's not a third degree, Steve. I just care, and I want to make sure you're okay."

Steve just looked at her and then walked away.

Jesse walked up to Amanda. "How's he doing?"

"Looks like we're going to be dealing with angry today."

"Oh, that's just great."

Steve sat down at the dining room table as his father walked out of the kitchen.

"Steve," he said with a smile, walking over to him. "How are you feeling?"

Steve closed his eyes, speaking through clenched teeth. "Fine."

"What's wrong, Son?"

"I wish that everyone would stop asking me how I'm feeling," he said angrily with an irritated look at his father.

"Okay then, we won't ask anymore," Mark said. "Would you like me to make you something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Steve, you haven't eaten since yesterday. You need something."

"I said that I wasn't hungry!" Steve yelled angrily.

"You just tell me when you are then, and I'll make you something."

"Fine," Steve replied.

Mark walked over to Jesse and Amanda.

"I see we're going to be dealing with anger today," Mark said.

"Yeah, I think so, too," Amanda said.

They all looked over at Steve, who happened to look up at them.

"What the hell are you all staring at?" He got up and walked away from them.

Mark walked over to Steve and stopped him from going any farther. "All right, Steve. This is going to stop, and it's going to stop right now."

Steve stared at his father.

"We're here to help," Mark continued, "not fight you. So stop the tough guy act."

Steve went to walk away from him and Mark grabbed his son's arm. "Do you understand me?"

Steve couldn't hold his anger back any longer. Pushing his father, Mark lost his balance and fell to the floor.

"I don't want your help," Steve said staring at his father. "Go back home and get the hell out of my life."

"Steven!" Amanda yelled.

"I didn't ask you to come here to baby-sit me," he continued, looking up at Jesse and Amanda. "I didn't ask any of you to baby-sit me."

"All right, Steven," Amanda said. "Your father is right, this is going to stop and it's going to stop right now."

Steve stared at Amanda.

"Like Mark said, we're here to help you," Amanda continued, "not fight you. So stop it."

"Are you through?"

"I think you owe your father an apology."

Steve looked at his father and then Amanda. Turning on his heel he walked away from the group.

Amanda went to go after him.

Mark grabbed her by the arm. "Let him go, Amanda."

"But…"

"Just let him go," Mark repeated and walked into the kitchen.

Amanda took a deep breath, looked over at Jesse and shrugged her shoulders.

------------------------------

Goodwin opened the door to Torres' office once again. He peered inside and saw that the room was unoccupied. Looking down the hallway on either side, he proceeded into the room. Closing the door quietly, he made his way over to the desk and sat down in the chair. He picked up the receiver to the phone and dialed a number. He waited for someone one the other end to pick up.

"Los Angeles Police Department."

"I need to speak with Lieutenant Cheryl Banks," he whispered.

"Excuse me. I can't here you. What did you say?"

"I said I need to speak with Lieutenant Cheryl Banks," Goodwin repeated a little louder this time.

"She's not in today. Can I take a message?"

"I need to speak to her right away. Is there a number where I can reach her?"

"I'm afraid I can't give out that information. If you want to leave a message, I can get it to her and she can call you back."

"You don't understand," Goodwin said. "I can't leave a message because she can't all me back where I am."

"Well, if you tell me what this message is about, I can get it to her."

"Look, I want to speak with Banks now," Goodwin said angrily. "Get her on another line and tell her I have information that she needs to know. This is very important information."

"Hold on one second sir."

Goodwin glanced up at the door nervously. "Come on come on, what the hell is taking you so long?"

A click on the other end told him the person he was talking to was back. "Did you get Banks?"

"Not yet, sir. We are trying to contact her right now. You need to wait on the phone just a little while longer."

"I don't have much time. You need to do this faster before."

At that moment the door to Torres' office flew open. Torres stood in the door way with Jackson and Franklin behind him.

"That's right, hold all my messages," Goodwin said into the phone. "I won't be coming in today either…All right…You know where to reach me if I'm needed…Yeah, bye." He looked up at Torres as he hung up the phone. "Just checking in at the office. Just wanted them to know I wouldn't be in today and to hold my calls."

"Oh I see," Torres said walking into the office. "Checking with the office again."

Goodwin got up from Torres' chair as Torres rounded the desk. He walked around the front of the desk. "I have other clients beside you, you know."

"Yeah, you told me that last night."

Goodwin glanced over his shoulder at Jackson and Franklin and then back at Torres. "Well, if you don't need me right now, I'm going to go work on something." As Goodwin turned to walk out the door, Jackson and Franklin stepped in front of the door to block his way. He turned again and looked at Torres who had the receiver in his hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked nervously.

"Oh, I was thinking of calling your office and talking with that sexy little receptionist you have over there."

Goodwin watched in fear as Torres pushed the redial button on the phone. Torres put the receiver up to his ear and Goodwin began to sweat. After hearing the voice at the other end, Torres hung up the phone and glared at Goodwin.

"You know, Goodwin," he began, "I'm really, really disappointed in you." He got up from his chair and walked over to the front of the desk. "Jesus Christ, I trusted you like a father. And you go and do this to me."

Goodwin looked nervously around the room, silently cursing himself for leaving his gun back in the room. "I have other cases I'm working on, I had to call the police department to get some files for one of my cases."

"Then why did you say you called your office?"

"Because I knew you would freak out like this if I told you I was talking with the police department."

Torres reached over his desk and opened a drawer; he took out a small tape recorder. Stopping the tape, he pressed the rewind button and then play, and held it up for Goodwin to hear.

_"Look, I want to speak to Banks now. Get her on another line and tell her I have information she needs to know. This is very important information."_ It was Goodwin's voice; there was no denying it now.

"How do you explain that?" Torres asked.

Goodwin didn't waste time trying to explain, but instead he tried to make a break for it. Running toward the door, he tried to get through Jackson and Franklin, but they both held him back.

"Like I said, Goodwin. You disappointed me, now you're going to have to pay the price."

"Look," Goodwin said nervously. "I didn't get to speak to Banks, listen to the rest of the tape and you'll see. I won't call again, I promise."

"Can't trust you, Goodwin. And when I can't trust somebody, I have no use for him." He sat down on the edge of the desk. "Take him out of here and leave him somewhere where his body can be found."

"No! No! You can't do this! After all I've done for you, you can't do this!"

Torres stood silently as he glared at Goodwin. Jackson and Franklin grabbed Goodwin from behind and dragged him out of the office, kicking and screaming. Torres took a cigar from his jacket pocket; grabbing the lighter off his desk, he lit it. Taking a puff, he slowly exhaled, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling.

"Two down and one more to go, "he said with a smile on his face. "You'll be getting yours soon, Lieutenant Sloan, very soon."


	18. Chapter 18

**PART 18**

Steve continued his restless pacing as Jesse watched. Amanda had gone to the beach house to get some things for him. He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain to look out. He turned to face Jesse.

"Why aren't there any unmarked cars out there?" he demanded.

"They're there Steve, you just can't see them from the window."

Mark walked out of the kitchen with a pot of coffee and set it on the table. Steve walked over to the table, and poured himself a cup. Mark watched as he took the sugar and began to pour an alarming amount of it into his cup.

"Don't you think that's enough sugar?" he asked.

Steve ignored the question and began searching through the candy wrappers that were left there from the night before. Steve felt his anger begin to build, and before he could stop himself he hurled the cup across the room. Mark stepped away from this as Jesse hurried into the dinning room

"Where the hell is Amanda with that candy?" he asked angrily.

"Chill, Steve. She had other stops to make besides the candy store," Jesse informed him.

Steve began to pace the floor once again, looking like a trapped animal in a cage. He stopped for a moment and looked down at his hands, which were visibly shaking, and then started to pace again.

"When the hell is this going to stop?" he asked, balling his hands into fists, hoping that would stop the shaking.

"Steve, the heroin is still in your system," Jesse said. "It's going to take a while before it's completely cleared out."

"I know that, Jesse," Steve said. "I've seen what people in heroin withdrawal go through. I see it every time I'm out there on the streets. I always wonder what the hell they were going through. Well, now I know. And it sucks, Jesse. It really sucks."

"I know," he said. "But it looks like you've been through the worst of it…"

"Oh, is that your professional opinion Doctor Travis? How do you know the worst is over? How do you know if the stomach pain isn't going to come back, or the vomiting, or shaking? How do you know?"

Jesse continued to stare silently at Steve.

"You see, Jesse, you don't know," he said. "So don't tell me the worst is over; it could still be yet to come."

"You know, Steve, you've been one big pain in the ass since you got up."

"Well, if you don't like it, leave!"

"No. You aren't going to get rid of me that easily. I know what you're going through."

"You know JACK SHIT about what I'm going through!" He turned to walk away from Jesse.

Jesse grabbed Steve's arm to turn him around to face him. Steve turned back around swinging. Jesse caught Steve's arm in mid-air and twisted it behind his back, bringing Steve down to his knees,

Steve was surprised at Jesse's strength. "Jesus Christ, Jesse, let go of me!"

"No, no until you hear me out. You're going to stop with the attitude, Steve. I know you're hurting, but you have to stop taking your anger out on us. Now I'm going to let you go, and so help me God if you come up swinging, I'm going to hit back this time."

Steve didn't say anything as Jesse let him go. He stood up shakily, walked away from Jesse and stood by the window.

------------------------------

Torres sat at his desk looking over some paperwork. A knock came at the door. "Come in."

Jackson and Franklin walked into the office and over to his desk. Torres looked up at them and sat back in his chair. "Well?"

"Everything is taken care of," Jackson said.

"Good, good. Where did you dump the body?"

"Left him inside his car, in one of the alleyways downtown."

"Did you make it look like he shot himself up with the stuff?"

"Actually he did," Jackson said. "It's cool to see what people will do when there is a gun pointed to their head."

"Okay," Torres said with a smile. "It's now," he looked at his watch, "two o'clock. Why don't you boys go get something to eat and meet me back here at five?"

"Yes, sir."

Jackson and Franklin walked out of the office and Torres turned his attention back to his paperwork.

------------------------------

A patrol car made its way down the alleyway, approaching Goodwin's parked car. Both officers got out and after exchanging glances, proceeded cautiously toward the figure sitting in the car.

"Hey, mister," one of the officers called. "Mister, wake up." He banged on the fender of the car but Goodwin didn't move.

As they both moved further up the length of the car, one of the officers made it to the driver's side, where he saw Goodwin slumped back in the seat. There was a hypodermic needle laying in his lap.

"Call it in. Looks like we have an overdose victim here."

His partner went to the patrol car and got back inside to use the radio. The other officer looked around the inside of the car, and spotting a note, put on a pair of gloves he took from his pocket. He leaned into the car, picked up the note and began to read it. He looked up as his partner go out of the car.

"Get Captain Newman and Lieutenant Banks here ASAP. They are going to want to see this note." He placed the note carefully back in the car.


	19. Chapter 19

I just wanted to say sorry for the long delay in posting the final two chapters.

---------------------------------

**Part 19:**

Amanda walked into the house and looked over at Mark. She could tell that something happened. What she wasn't sure yet. She walked over to Steve who was still standing by the window. "Hey there," she said with a smile.

"Did you get the candy?"

"Hello to you too, Amanda. How are you doing?" Amanda said sarcastically. She handed him the bag of candy. Steve opened it, and took out one of the candy bars. "I also stopped b you place and got you some clean clothes."

Steve continued to devour the candy bar.

"Hello, earth to Steve," Amanda said, waving her hand in front of Steve's face.

"Oh, sorry," he replied with a mouth full of chocolate. "Thanks." He grabbed the bag of clothes from Amanda. "Did you put my razor in here?"

"Everything is in there that you'll need to take a shower."

Steve walked toward the bathroom, placing the bag of candy on a table, but not before taking a couple of bars with him.

Amanda walked over to Mark who was sitting at the dinning room table. "How did things go while I was out?" she asked, sitting down and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"After a little temper tantrum, Steve decided to calm down," Mark told her with a smile.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Mark said. "It was Jesse who told him the way it was going to be."

"Oh, I would have loved to have been here for that," Amanda said with a smile. "Where is Jesse anyway?"

"In the kitchen," Mark replied. "He's on the phone with the hospital."

"Speaking of the hospital," Amanda said. "I have to go in and take care of an autopsy."

Jesse walked out of the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Mark asked.

"One of my patients needs surgery," Jesse answered. "I have to get back to the hospital."

"Well I have to go back to the hospital as well," Amanda said.

Jesse looked at her and then at Mark. "I could always call and see if I can get someone else to cover for me."

"No, no," Mark said. "You two need to get back to there and do your jobs."

"But Mark, are you going to be okay here with Steve?" she asked, getting up from the table.

"I'll be fine."

"We'll be back as soon as we can." Jesse said.

Jesse and Amanda walked toward the door with Mark following them.

"Guys," Mark said. "I'll be fine, don't worry. Besides we have the unmarked car outside."

"Still," Amanda replied. "If you need anything you give us a call."

"I will," Mark said with a smile.

He watched Amanda and Jesse walk out of the house. He shut the door behind them and locked it.

------------------------------

Cheryl and Captain Newman arrived at the scene. One of the police officers was directing the ME over to the car where Goodwin was. He saw them, and walked over to their car.

"What do we have here?" Newman asked, getting out of the car.

"Male, in his late thirties, early forties," the officer began. "Looks like a heroin overdose."

"Heroin overdose?" Cheryl asked, walking over to the car. She looked at the body that was still inside and looked up at Captain Newman and the police officer as they walked up to her. "Goodwin."

"Oh, this is for you two," the police officer said, handing Newman the folded piece of paper.

Unfolding it, he looked at it and then handed it to Cheryl, who read it. Handing to back to the police officer, Cheryl ran back to the car with Newman close behind her.

The police officer watched them as the car sped away from the scene. He looked down at the note in his hand. Three words were written on it: Sloan, Torres tonight.

------------------------------

Torres, Jackson and Franklin sat in their car, watching the safe house from a distance.

"There's just that one unmarked car over there," Jackson said.

"But how many officers are in there?" Torres asked. "Are there four all together or are there only two?"

"From what I saw," Franklin said, "there are only two."

"Okay, Joseph, I want you to go take care of them."

Jackson stepped out of the car and took off to do what he was told. Torres reached over to the passenger side of the car and picked up a black bag. Unzipping it, he took out a syringe, looked at it closely and kissed it. He turned to watch Jackson make his way over to the patrol car.

"Did you hear that?" one of the officers asked.

"Hear what?"

The officer listened again. "I must be hearing things."

Before they knew what hit them, Jackson pointed his gun with a silencer at the first officer and fired.

"Oh shit!" the second officer yelled, trying to get his gun out.

Jackson pointed his gun and the shot was fired. He then motioned to Torres and Franklin that things were in the clear. Once they reached Jackson, Torres issued more orders.

"Okay, I want you two to go through the back way," Torres ordered them. "Once you two are inside, I want you to let me in the front door."

Jackson and Franklin ran to the back of the house.

------------------------------

Steve emerged from the show, clean shaven and dressed in a fresh pair of clothes.

"How are you feeling?" Mark asked.

Steve smiled, something he hadn't been able to do in a while. "I feel better. The shower really helped a lot."

"Glad to hear that," Mark said with a smile. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit," Steve said and with that his father started for the kitchen. "Wait a minute."

Mark turned to face Steve.

"Nothing too heavy, okay?"

"One bowl of chicken broth coming right up," Mark said, and he turned and walked into the kitchen.

Steve walked over to the couch and sat down. "Where's Jesse and Amanda?"

"They had to go back to the hospital," Mark called out from the kitchen. "They should be back soon."

"Oh."

Mark walked out of the kitchen, walked over to the couch and sat beside his son. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Hands don't seem to be shaking anymore, have a few aches."

"But?"

"But I still feel that I want to do the drug," Steve said. "I can't shake that feeling."

"How strong is this feeling?"

"Not as strong as before, but it's still there."

"You'll get through it, Steve."

"I know; I just wish I knew how long this was going to take."

"I wish I had the answer for you on that one, Steve, but I don't."

"That's okay," Steve said smiling. "I got you, Amanda and Jesse to help me through this."

"About time you realized it," Mark said, giving his son a hug.

"I knew all along," Steve whispered, returning the hug.

------------------------------

"Oh, tell me this isn't happening!" Cheryl said in frustration as she looked at the traffic on the highway. "What the hell is going on here?"

Newman placed the receiver to the radio down, and looked at Cheryl.

"Did you get through to them?"

"No one has answered," he said.

"Damn it!" Cheryl yelled. Looking in the rearview mirror, she made a sharp turn and started to ride the median of the highway.

Newman grabbed the dashboard with one of his hands. "Let's make sure we get there in one piece, Banks."

Cheryl ignored Newman and continued to concentrate on the road in front of her. Newman picked up the mic once again. "Dispatch, this is Captain Newman…I need back up at 32 Carlton Avenue. Anyone getting there first should be on the look out for a Rolando Torres. Be advised that he is armed and dangerous – approach with caution." He placed the mic back where it belonged, silently praying that they would get there before Torres did.


	20. Chapter 20

**PART 20:**

Steve looked out the living room window at the unmarked car that was now in front of the house. He was unaware that the officers inside were dead.

Mark walked out of the kitchen with a bowl of soup in his hand. "Okay, here's some soup for ya," he said, placing the bowl on the table. "Come over here and eat it before it gets cold.

Steve walked over to the table and sat down. He grabbed a spoon and started to eat the soup quickly.

"Hey, slow down," Mark ordered him. "You'll make yourself sick."

"Guess I'm hungrier than I thought I was."

"Well, there's plenty more soup in there, so just take it easy."

"Can I have some more then?" Steve asked, holding up his now empty bowl.

"Sure can," Mark said with a smile and he walked back into the kitchen.

Steve looked around while he waited for his father to come back from the kitchen. "Hey, what's taking you so long? I don't want that much." There was no answer from the kitchen. "Dad?"

At that moment Mark walked into the dining room with Jackson and Franklin behind him.

"Sit down."

"What do you want?" Steve asked.

"You'll see, Lieutenant Sloan," Jackson said, walking over to the front door, and opening it.

Torres walked into the house and looked at Mark and Steve sitting at the table.

"Awwww, isn't this nice," Torres said looking around. "A cozy family dinner."

What the hell are you doing here, Torres?" Steve asked.

"Oh, you didn't hear, Lieutenant Sloan," Torres said with a smirk. "I was let out of jail. Seems the main witness never showed up to testify." Torres sat in the chair opposite the Sloans. "And he still won't be showing up."

"You're not going to get away with this, Torres."

"Look around you, Stevie boy. The officers outside? Well, let's just say they met with a very unfortunate accident."

"You son of a bitch," Steve hissed.

"Cursing in front of your father," Torres said. "Not a nice thing to do."

"Look, it's me you want. Let my father go; you don't need him."

Torres stared at Steve. "No, he's going to stay here with us for the time being."

Torres snapped his fingers and Jackson and Franklin walked over to the table to grab Steve. Before they could get a grip on him, Steve sprang up from the chair, knocking Jackson to the ground. Franklin pointed his gun at Steve, ready to shoot him. Seeing this, Mark threw himself at Franklin, knocking the gun out of Franklin's hand. Scrambling to his feet, Mark grabbed a vase off of the table and smashed it on the back of Franklins head, sending him to the floor. Seeing that Franklin wasn't getting back up, Mark went over to help his son. Steve was fighting to gain control of the gun from Jackson.

Torres moved to pick up Franklin's gun as Steve knocked Jackson unconscious with a blow from his own gun.

Mark was helping his son up, when a gun shot made them both freeze in place.

"Are we done now?" Torres asked angrily. He pointed the gun at Mark. "Bring the gun over here, Sloan."

Steve and Mark walked over to Torres and Steve turned the gun over to him.

"Please don't do this," Mark pleaded.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Torres said angrily, lashing out with the gun, the butt connecting with Mark's temple.

Steve watched his father fall to the ground, blood oozing from the gash on his father's temple. He made a move toward Torres.

"Ah ah," Torres said, pointing his gun at Steve. "Now, Lieutenant Sloan, it is your time to die."

Steve never took his eyes off of Torres. "How do you plan on getting away with this, Torres?"

"Oh, I'm not going to do it," Torres answered him. "You'll be doing it yourself." He took the syringe from his pocket and held it up for Steve to see. "Remember this, Sloan?"

Steve swallowed hard as he stared at the syringe in Torres' hand.

"I know you want it," Torres said with a smile. "Come on, Sloan, it's waiting for you."

The need was there, and Steve knew it. He looked at his father with tears in his eyes and made his move toward Torres.

"That's it," Torres said. "Come and get it."

Steve walked up to Torres who held the syringe out for him to take.

"Go on. Take it. It's yours."

Steve took the syringe from Torres' hand and just held it in his own hand. He looked at his father lying on the floor. "I'm sorry," he whispered and began to roll up his sleeve.

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Cheryl and Newman pulled up behind the unmarked police car.

"I don't see them in there," Cheryl said.

"They are," Newman said, pointing to the ground. "There's broken glass on the ground, they're in there."

"You take the back," Cheryl said. "I got the front." She started to get out of the car.

"Wait for back up, Cheryl," Newman ordered her.

Cheryl looked at Newman. "There's no time to wait for back up. Torres and his men are probably in the house already."

Newman looked back at the house and then at Cheryl again. "Okay," he said, reaching into the glove department and taking out two walkie talkies. "Give me a minute to get to the back of the house. I'll let you know when I'm back there," he told her, handing her one of the radios. "After that, count to ten and we'll both go in."

"All right," Cheryl said. She made her way slowly to the front door of the house, while Newman made his way to the back.

Cheryl walked up to the front door and waited. She could see that the living room window curtain was partly opened. She moved to the other side of the door and peered inside. What she saw made her heart jump. She returned to the door. "Come on, Captain, hurry up," she whispered to herself.

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Torres pointed the gun at Mark. He watched as Steve brought the syringe up to his arm.

"Come on already," Torres said impatiently. "Get on with it."

Steve looked up at Torres and slowly lowered the syringe to his side. Steve brought the syringe up to his arm once again and pricked himself with the needle but stopped and looked at Torres.

"Look man, if you don't do this now," Torres began, "your father is history." He cocked the gun back. "It's your choice."

"You forgot the tourniquet," Steve informed him. "I can't do this without the tourniquet."

"The hell with the tourniquet, just shoot it into your arm. You're stalling, Sloan. I'm giving you to the count of five before I put a bullet in your father's head."

Tom looked at his father and then Torres again.

"One."

"Six," Cheryl said.

"Two."

"Seven," Newman said.

"Four," Torres continued to count.

"Nine," Cheryl said.

"Ten," Newman said and he opened the door and entered the house.

"Ten," Cheryl said and she flung the front door opened.

"Fi…" Torres started to say. "What the…?" He looked up at the front door as Cheryl burst into the room.

Steve saw his chance and leapt into action. He knocked the gun out of Torres' hand and stabbed him in the chest with the syringe, releasing the drug into Torres' system at the same time.

Torres stumbled backwards, impaled by the syringe, clutching at his chest. He stared wide eyed at Steve, hitting the wall with a sickening thud and slid down. His body twitched once and then stopped moving.

Steve moved over to Mark, who remained crumpled on the floor. "Dad?"

Newman walked into the living room and took in the scene. He walked over to Franklin and handcuffed the still unconscious man. Cheryl finished cuffing Jackson, and then walked over to Steve and his dad.

Mark was sitting up by the time she reached them.

"You all right?" she asked, kneeling next to Steve.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Steve said with a smile and turned his attention to his father.

"Oh, what hit me?" Mark moaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Next time, Dad," Steve said with a tired grin, "let me handle the bad guys, okay?"

Mark smiled. "You got it."

Newman joined the group after checking Torres. "Torres is dead."

Steve looked over at Torres' lifeless body. A hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to his father.

"It's over, Son. It's finally over."

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Thank for all who have read this story and left wonderful feedback.


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